.IBRARY   ] 

UNIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA       7 


THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT 


OF  THE 


Great  North  American  Circus 


BY 

HORATIO  ALGER,  JR. 

AUTHOR  OF  "  THE   ERIE  TRAIN    BOY,"  "  RAGGED  DICK,' 
"TATTERED  TOM,"  ETC. 


NEW  YORK 

HURST  AND  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


LOAN  STACK 


PS 


i-ita- 


THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT 


CHAPTER  I. 

KIT  WATSON". 

THERE  was  great  excitement  in  Smyrna,  especially 
among  the  boys.  Barlow's  Great  American  Circus  in 
its  triumphal  progress  from  State  to  State  was  close 
at  hand,  and  immense  yellow  posters  announcing  its 
arrival  were  liberally  displayed  on  fences  and  barns, 
while  smaller  bills  were  put  up  in  the  post  office,  tho 
hotel,  and  the  principal  stores,  and  distributed  from 
house  to  house. 

It  was  the  largest  circus  that  had  ever  visited 
Smyrna.  At  least  a  dozen  elephants  marched  with 
ponderous  steps  in  its  preliminary  procession,  while 
clowns,  acrobats,  giants,  dwarfs,  fat  women,  canni 
bals,  and  hairy  savages  from  Thibet  and  Madagascar, 
were  among  the  strange  wonders  which  were  to  be 
seen  at  each  performance  for  the  small  sum  of  fifty 
cents,  children  half  price. 

For  weeks  the  young  people  had  been  looking  for 
ward  to  the  advent  of  this  marvelous  aggregation  of 
curiosities,  and  the  country  papers  from  farther  east 
had  given  glowing  accounts  of  the  great  show,  which 
was  emphatically  pronounced  greater  and  more  gor- 

289 


4  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

geous  than  in  any  previous  year.  But  it  may  be  as 
well  to  reproduce,  in  part,  the  description  given  in 
the  posters : 

BARLOW'S  GREAT  NORTH  AMERICAN  CIRCUS. 

Now  in  its  triumphal  march  across  the  continent,  will 

give  two  grand  performances, 

AT  SMYRNA 

On  the  afternoon  and  evening  of  May  18th. 

Never  in  all  its  history  has  this 

Unparalleled  show  embraced  a  greater  variety  of  attrac 
tions,  or  included  a  larger  number  of  world  famous 
Acrobats,  Clowns,  Bare  back  Riders,  Rope  walkers,  Tra 
peze  Artists,  and  Star  Performers, 
In  addition  to  a  colossal  menagerie,  comprising 

Elephants,  Tigers,  Lions,  Leopards, 

and  other  wild  animals  in  great  variety. 

All  this  and  far  more,  including  a  hundred 

DARING  ACTS, 

Can  be  seen  for  the  trifling  sum  of  Ffty  cents  j 

Children  half  price. 
COME  ONE  I  COME  ALL  ! 

Two  boys  paused  to  read  this  notice,  pasted  with 
illustrative  pictures  of  elephants  and  circus  perform 
ers  on  the  high  board  fence  near  Stoddard's  grocery 
store.  They  were  Dan  Clark  and  Christopher  Wat- 
$on,  called  Kit  for  short. 

"  Shall  you  go  to  the  circus,  Dan  ?  "  asked  Kit. 

"I  would  like  to,  but  you  know,  Kit,  I  have  no 
money  to  spare." 

«  Don't  let  that  interfere,"  said  Kit,  kindly.  '<  Here 
is  half  a  dollar.  That  will  take  you  in." 

"  You're  a  tip-top  fellow,  Kit.  But  I  don't  think  I 
ought  to  take  it.  I  don't  know  when  I  shall  be  able 
to  return  it." 

"Who  asked  you  to  return  it?  I  meant  it  as  a 
gift." 

3.  true  friend,  Kit/*  said  Dan,  earnestly, 


KIT  WATSON.  5 

"  I  don't  know  as  I  ought  to  take  it,  but  I  will  any 
how.  You  know  I  only  get  my  board  and  a  dollar  a 
week  from  Farmer  Clifford,  and  that  I  give  to  my 
mother." 

"  I  wish  you  had  a  better  place,  Dan/' 

"  So  do  I ;  but  perhaps  it  is  as  well  as  I  can  do  at 
my  age.  All  boys  are  not  born  to  good  luck  as  you 
are." 

"  Am  I  born  to  good  luck  ?    I  don't  know." 

"  Isn't  your  uncle  Stephen  the  richest  man  in 
Smyrna?" 

"  I  suppose  he  is ;  but  that  doesn't  make  me  rich.'* 

"  Isn't  he  your  guardian  ?  " 

"Yes;  but  it  doesn't  follow  because  there  is  a 
guardian  there  is  a  fortune." 

"  I  hope  there  is." 

"I  am  going  to  tell  you  something  in  confidence, 
Dan.  Uncle  Stephen  has  lately  been  dropping  a 
good  many  hints  about  the  necessity  of  being  econ 
omical,  and  that  I  may  have  my  own  way  to  make  in 
the  world.  What  do  you  think  it  means  ?  " 

"  Have  you  been  extravagant  ?  " 

"  Not  that  I  am  aware  of.  I  have  been  at  an  ex 
pensive  boarding  school  with  my  cousin  Ealph,  and 
I  have  dressed  well,  and  had  a  fair  amount  of  spend 
ing  money." 

"  Have  you  spent  any  more  than  Ralph  ?  " 

"  No ;  not  so  much,  for  I  will  tell  you  in  confidence 
that  he  has  been  pla3dng  pool  and  cards  for  money, 
of  course  without  the  knowledge  of  the  principal.  I 
know  also  that  this  last  term,  besides  spending  his 
pocket  money,  he  ran  up  bills,  which  his  father  had 
to  pay,  to  the  amount  of  fifty  dollars  or  more." 

"  How  did  your  uncle  like  it  ?  " 

"I  don't  know.    Ralph  and  his  father  had  a  pri-> 


o  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

vate  interview,  but  he  got  the  money.  I  believe  his 
mother  took  his  part." 

"  Why  don't  you  ask  your  uncle  just  how  you 
stand?" 

"I  have  thought  of  it.  If  I  am  to  inherit  a  for- 
tune  I  should  like  'to  know  it.  If  I  have  my  own 
way  to  make  I  want  to  know  that  also,  so  that  I  can 
begin  to  prepare  for  it." 

"Would  you  feel  bad  if  you  found  out  that  you 
were  a  poor  boy — like  me,  for  instance  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  I  should  just  at  first,  but  I  should  try 
to  make  the  best  of  it  in  the  end." 

"Well,  I  hope  you  won't  have  occasion  to  buckle 
down  to  hard  work.  When  do  you  go  back  to 
school?" 

"  The  next  term  begins  next  Monday." 

"  And  it  is  now  Wednesday.  You  will  be  able  to 
see  the  circus  at  any  rate.  It  is  to  arrive  to-night." 

"  Suppose  we  go  round  to  the  lot  to-morrow  mom- 
ing.  We  can  see  them  putting  up  the  tents." 

"  All  right !    I'll  meet  you  at  nine  o'clock." 

They  were  about  to  separate  when  another  boy,  of 
about  the  same  age  and  size,  came  up. 

"  It's  time  for  dinner,  Kit,"  he  said;  «  mother*!!  be 
angry  if  you  are  late." 

"  Very  well !  I'll  go  home  with  you.  Good  morn 
ing,  Dan." 

"  Good  morning,  Kit.  Good  morning,  Ealph." 

Ealph  mumbled  out  "  Morning,"  but  did  not  deign 
to  look  at  Dan. 

"  I  wonder  you  associate  with  that  boy,  Kit,"  he 
said. 

"  Why  ?  "  inquired  Kit,  rather  defiantly. 

"  Because  he's  only  a  farm  laborer." 

"Does  that  hurt  him?" 


KIT  WATSON.  7 

*'  I  don't  care  to  associate  with  such  a  low  class." 

"  Daniel  Webster  worked  on  a  farm  when  he  was  a 
boy."\ 

"  Dan  Clark  isn't  a  Webster." 

"  We  don't  know  what  he  will  turn  out  to  be." 

"  I  don't  consider  him  fit  for  me  to  associate 
with,"  said  Ealph.  "  It  may  be  different  in  your 
case." 

"  Why  should  it  be  different  in  my  case  ?  "  asked 
Kit,  suspiciously. 

"  Oh,  no  offense  at  all,  but  your  circumstances  and 
social  position  are  likely  to  be  different  from  mine." 

"  Are  they  ?  That's  just  what  I  should  like  to  find 
out." 

"  My  father  says  so,  and  as  you  are  under  his 
guardianship  he  ought  to  know." 

"Yes,  he  ought  to  know,  but  he  has  never  told 
me." 

"  He  has  told  me,  but  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  say 
anything,"  said  Ealph,  looking  mysterious. 

"  I  think  I  ought  to  be  the  first  to  be  told,"  said 
Kit,  not  unreasonably. 

"  You  will  be  told  soon.  There  is  one  thing  I  can 
tell  you,  however.  You  are  not  to  go  back  to  board 
ing  school  on  Monday." 

Kit  paused  in  the  street,  and  gazed  at  his  compan 
ion  in  surprise. 

"  Are  you  going  back  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes ;  I'm  going  to  keep  on  till  I  am  ready  for 
college." 

"  And  what  is  to  be  done  with  me  ?  " 

Ralph  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  tell  you,"  he  answered. 

"  I  shall  ask  my  uncle  this  very  day." 

"  Just  as  you  please." 


8  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

Kit  walked  on  in  silence.  His  mind  was  busy  with 
thoughts  of  the  change  in  his  prospects.  He  did 
not  know  what  was  coming,  but  he  was  anxious.  It 
was  likely  to  be  a  turning  point  in  his  life,  and  he 
was  apprehensive  that  the  information  soon  to  be  im 
parted  to  him  would  not  be  of  an  agreeable  nature. 


CHAPTER  II. 

INTRODUCES  THREE  CURIOSITIES. 

STEPHEN  WATSON,  uncle  of  Kit  and  father  of 
Ralph,  was  a  man  of  middle  age.  It  was  difficult  to 
trace  any  resemblance  between  him  and  his  nephew. 
The  latter  had  an  open  face,  with  a  bright,  attractive 
expression.  Mr.  Watson  was  dark  and  sallow,  of 
spare  habit,  and  there  was  a  cunning  look  in  his  eyes, 
beneath  which  a  Roman  nose  jutted  out  like  a  prom 
ontory.  He  looked  like  the  incarnation  of  cold  selfish 
ness,  and  his  real  character  did  not  belie  his  looks. 

Five  years  before  Kit  Watson's  father  had  died. 
He  resembled  Kit  in  appearance,  and  was  very  popu 
lar  in  Smyrna.  His  brother  wound  up  the  estate, 
and  had  since  been  living  in  luxury,  but  whether  the 
property  was  his  or  his  nephew's  Kit  was  unable  to 
tell.  He  had  asked  the  question  occasionally,  but 
his  uncle  showed  a  distaste  for  the  subject,  and  gave 
evasive  replies. 

What  Kit  had  just  heard  made  him  anxious,  and 
he  resolved  to  attack  his  uncle  once  more.  After 
dinner,  therefore,  he  began : 

"  "Uncle  Stephen,  Ralph  tells  me  I  am  not  going 
back  to  school  OP  Monday." 


INTRODUCKS  TIIRKK  CURIOSITIES.  g 

"Ralph  Rpcaks  correctly,"  Mr.  Watgon  replied  in  a 
measured  voice;. 

"  Hut  why  am  I  not  to  go?" 

"I  will  explain  before  the-  timo  comes." 

"Can  you  not  tell  me  now?  I  am  anxious  to 
know." 

"  You  miiHt  curb  your  curiosity.  You  will  know 
in  good  time/' 

Kit  regarded  his  uncle  in  silence.  ITo  wished  to 
know  what  had  caused  thin  remarkable  change,  but 
il-  seemed  useless  to  ask  any  more  questions. 

The  next  morning  he  and  Dan  Clark,  according 
to  agreement,  met  in  front  of  Sloddard's  store. 

"  I  had  hard  work  lo  get  away,"  said  Dan.  "  Let 
us  go  right  over  to  the  circuit  grounds." 

These  wen;  located  about  a  third  of  a  mile  from 
the  hold,  in  a.  large  twenty-acre  pasture.  The  lot, 
as  il,  was  called,  was  a  neene  of  activity.  A  hand  nf 
canvas  men  wore  busily  engaged  in  putting  up  I  ho 
big  tent.  Several  elephants  wen;  standing  round, 
and  the  cages  of  animals  hail  already  been  put  in 
place  inside  the  rising  tent. 

(Mi  a  bench  outside  wit  a  curious  group,  compris 
ing  Achilles  Henderson,  the  great  Scolch  giant,  who 
was  set  down  on  the  bills  n.fl  eight  feet  three  inches 
in  height,  and  was  really  about  seven  feet  and  a  half; 
Major  Conrad,  the  dwarf,  who  wan  about  the  flize  of 
an  average  child  of  three  years,  and  Madame  Celes- 
tina  Morel  hi,  the  f|iieen  of  Pat  women,  who  was  credit 
ed  on  the  bills  wilh  a  weight  of  live  hundred  and 
eighty  seven  pounds.  She  was  certainly  massive, 
but  probably  fell  short  a  hundred  and  fil'ly  pounds 
of  ">"se  elephantine  proportions! 

Kit  arid  Dan  paused  to  look  at  this  singular  trio. 

"  I  wonder  how  much  pay  they  get?"  said  Dan, 
tu  rni  riff  to  Kit. 


IO  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  I  saw  in  some  paper  that  the  fat  woman  gets  fifty 
dollars  a  week." 

"  That's  pretty  good  pay  for  being  fat,  Kit." 

"Would  you  be  willing  to  be  as  fat  for  that 
money  ?  " 

"  I  think  not/'  said  Dan,  "  though  it's  a  good  deal 
more  than  I  get  now." 

They  were  standing  near  the  bench  on  which  the 
three  were  seated.  Achilles,  who  looked  good-na 
tured,  as  most  big  men  are,  addressed  the  boys. 

"  Well,  boys,  are  you  coming  to  see  the  show  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  both. 

"  I  used  to  like  to  myself  when  I  was  a  boy.  I 
didn't  expect  then  I  should  ever  travel  with  one." 

"  Were  you  very  large  as  a  boy  ?  "  asked  Dan,  with 
curiosity. 

"  When  I  was  twelve  years  old  I  was  six  feet  high, 
and  people  generally  thought  then  that  I  was  eigh 
teen.  I  thought  perhaps  I  shouldn't  grow  any  more, 
but  I  kept  on.  When  I  was  sixteen  I  was  seven  feet 
tall,  and  by  twenty  I  had  reached  my  present 
height." 

"  Are  you  eight  feet  three  inches  tall,  Mr.  Hender* 
son?" 

"  Is  that  what  the  bills  say  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  it  must  be  so,"  he  said  with  a  smile. 

"How  long  have  you  been  traveling  with  the 
circus?" 

"  Five  years." 

"How  do  you  like  it?" 

"  It's  a  good  deal  easier  than  working  on  a  farm, 
especially  in  Vermont,  where  I  was  born  and  bred." 

"  But  they  call  you  the  Scotch  giant." 

"  It  sounds  well5  doesn't  it  ?    My  father  was  bora 


INTRODUCES  THREE   CURIOSITIES.  II 

in  Scotland,  but  my  mother  was  a  Vermont  Yankee. 
You  know  Americans  are  more  willing  to  pay  for  a 
foreign  curiosity  than  for  one  home  born.  That's 
why  my  great  friend  here  " — emphasizing  the  word 
great — "  calls  herself  Madame  Celestina  Morella." 

The  fat  lady  smiled. 

"  People  think  I  am  French  or  Italian/'  she  said, 
"but  I  never  was  out  of  the  United  States  in  my 
life." 

"  Where  were  you  born,  Madame  Morella  ?  " 

"  In  the  western  part  of  New  York  State.  I  know 
what  you  are  going  to  ask  me.  Was  I  always  fat? 
No,  when  I  was  sixteen  I  only  weighed  one  hundred 
and  twenty.  Then  I  had  a  fit  of  sickness  and  nearly 
died.  After  recovering,  I  began  to  gain  flesh,  till  I 
became  a  monster,  as  you  see." 

As  she  said  this,  she  laughed,  and  her  fat  sides 
shook  with  merriment.  Evidently  she  did  not  let 
her  size  weigh  upon  her  mind. 

"  I  suppose  your  real  name  isn't  Celestina  Mor 
ella  ?  "  said  Kit. 

"  My  real  name  is  Betsey  Hatch.  That  is  what 
they  called  me  in  my  girlhood,  but  I  should  hardly 
know  who  was  meant  if  I  was  called  so  now." 

"  Have  you  been  long  in  the  show  business  ?  " 

"  About  seven  years." 

"  Do  you  like  it  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  at  first,  but  now  I've  got  used  to  moving 
about.  Now  when  the  spring  opens  I  have  the  regu* 
lar  circus  fever.  But  I  have  my  troubles." 

"  What  are  they  ?"  asked  Kit,  seeing  that  the  fat 
woman  liked  to  talk. 

"  Well,  I  find  it  very  difficult  to  secure  at  the  hotels 
a  bed  large  enough  and  strong  enough  to  hold  me. 
I  suppose  you  won't  be  surprised  to  hear  that." 


13  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"Not  much." 

"  At  Akron,  Ohic,  where  the  hotel  was  full,  I  was 
put  in  a  cot  bed,  though  I  protested  against  it.  As 
soon  as  I  got  in,  the  whole  thing  collapsed,  and  I  was 
landed  on  the  floor." 

She  laughed  heartily  at  the  remembrance. 

"  I  remember  that  very  well,"  said  the  giant,  "  for 
I  slept  in  the  room  below.  Half  an  hour  after  getting 
into  bed,  I  heard  a  fearful  noise  in  the  room  above, 
and  thought  at  first  the  hotel  had  been  struck  by 
lightning,  and  a  piercing  shriek  that  echoed  through 
the  house  led  me  to  fear  that  my  esteemed  Italian 
friend  was  a  victim.  But  my  mind  was  soon  relieved 
when  I  learned  the  truth." 

"  I  suppose,  major,  you  never  broke  down  a  bed," 
said  the  giant,  turning  to  the  dwarf. 

"  No,"  answered  the  major,  in  a  shrill  piping  voice, 
"  I  never  lie  awake  thinking  of  that." 

"  I  believe  you  served  in  the  civil  war,  major  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  was  in  the  infantry." 

It  was  a  stale  joke,  but  all  four  laughed  at  it. 

"  How  much  do  you  weigh,  major?  "  Kit  ventured 
to  ask. 

"Twenty-one  pounds  and  a  half,"  answered  the 
dwarf.  "  I  have  with  me  some  of  my  photographs, 
if  you  would  like  to  buy,"  and  the  little  man  pro 
duced  half  a  dozen  cards  from  his  tiny  pocket. 

"  How  much  are  they  ?  " 
.  "  Ten  cents." 

"  I'll  take  one,"  said  Kit,  and  he  produced  the  nec 
essary  coin. 

"  If  you  go  into  the  tent  you  can  see  some  of  the 
performers  rehearsing,"  suggested  Achilles. 

"  Let  us  go  in,  Dan." 

The  two  boys  reached  the  portals  and  went  into  the 
big  tent. 


KIT  ASTONISHES  TWO  ACROBATS.  IJ 

CHAPTER  III. 

KIT  ASTONISHES  TWO  ACROBATS. 

THE  circus  tent  was  nearly  ready  for  the  regular 
performance.  Kit  and  Dan  regarded  the  sawdust 
arena  with  the  interest  which  it  always  inspires  in 
boys  of  sixteen.  Already  it  was  invested  with  fasci 
nation  for  them.  Two  acrobats  who  performed  what 
is  called  the  "  brothers'  act "  were  rehearsing.  They 
were  placarded  as  the  Vincenti  brothers,  though 
one  was  a  French  Canadian  and  the  other  an  Irish 
man,  and  there  was  no  relationship  between  them. 
At  the  time  the  boys  entered,  one  had  climbed  upon 
the  other's  shoulders,  and  was  standing  erect  with 
folded  arms.  This  was,  of  course,  easy,  but  the 
next  act  was  more  difficult.  By  a  quick  movement 
he  lowered  his  head,  and  grasping  the  uplifted  hands 
of  the  lower  acrobat,  raised  his  feet  and  poised  him 
self  aloft,  with  his  feet  up  in  the  air,  sustained  by 
the  muscular  arms  of  his  associate. 

"  That  must  take  strength,  Kit/5  said  Dan. 

«  So  it  does." 

"  No  one  but  a  circus  man  could  do  it,  I  sup 
pose?" 

"  I  can  do  it,"  said  Kit  quietly. 

Dan  regarded  him  with  undisguised  astonishment. 

"  You  are  joking,"  he  sajd. 

"  No,  I  am  not." ' 

"  Where  did  you  learn  to  do  such  a  thing  ?  "  asked 
Dan,  incredulous,  though  he  knew  Kit  to  be  a  boy  of 
truth. 


14  THE   YOUNG   ACROBAT. 

"I  will  tell  you.  In  the  town  where  I  attended 
boarding  school  there  is  a  large  gymnasium,,  under 
the  superintendence  of  a  man  who  traveled  for  years 
with  a  circus.  He  used  to  give  lessons  to  the  boys, 
but  most  contented  themselves  with  a  few  common 
exercises.  I  suppose  I  should  also,  but  there  was  an 
English  boy  in  the  school,  very  supple  and  muscu 
lar,  who  was  proud  of  his  strength,  and  ambitious  to 
make  himself  a  thorough  gymnast.  He  persuaded 
me  to  take  lessons  in  the  most  difficult  acrobatic  feats 
with  him,  as  two  had  to  work  together." 

"  Did  you  pay  the  professor  extra  to  instruct  you  ?  " 
asked  Dan. 

"  He  charged  nothing.  He  was  only  too  glad  to 
teach  us  all  he  knew.  It  seems  he  was  at  one  time 
connected  with  Barnum's  circus,  and  prepared  per 
formers  for  the  arena.  He  told  us  it  made  him  think 
of  his  old  circus  days  to  teach  us.  At  the  close  of 
last  term  we  gave  him  five  dollars  apiece  as  an  ac 
knowledgment  of  his  services.  He  assured  us  then 
that  we  were  competent  to  perform  in  any  circus." 

"  Could  you  really  do  what  the  Vincenti  brothers 
are  doing  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  and  more/' 

"  I  wish  I  could  see  you  do  it." 

The  boys  were  seated  near  the  sawdust  arena,  and 
the  last  part  of  their  conversation  had  been  heard 
by  the  acrobats.  It  was  taken  as  an  illustration  of 
boyish  braggadocio,  and  as  circus  men  are  always 
ready  for  practical  jokes,  particularly  at  the  expense 
of  greenhorns,  they  resolved  that  there  was  a  good 
chance  for  a  little  fun. 

One  tipped  the  wink  to  the  other,  and  turning  to 
Kit,  said :  "  What's  that  you're  saying,  kid  ?  " 

"  How  does  he  know  your  name  ? "  said  D*u^  mis- 


KIT  ASTONISHES  TWO  ACROBATS.  t$ 

taking  kid,  the  circus  name  for  boy,  for  his  friend's 
nickname. 

"  He  said  kid,  not  Kit,"  answered  our  hero. 

"Do  you  think  you  can  do  our  act?"  continued 
the  acrobat. 

"  I  think  I  can,"  replied  Kit. 

This  elicited  a  broad  grin  from  the  acrobat. 

"  Look  here,  kid,"  he  said,  "  do  you  know  how 
long  it  took  me  to  learn  the  business  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  but  I  should  like  to  know." 

"  Three  years." 

"  No  doubt  you  can  do  a  great  deal  more  than  I." 

"  Oh,  no,  certainly  not ! "  said  the  acrobat,  ironi 
cally. 

"  I  see  you  don't  believe  me,"  said  Kit. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  you  remind  me  of,  kid.  There 
was  a  fellow  came  to  our  circus  last  summer,  and 
wanted  to  get  an  engagement  as  rider.  He  said  he'd 
been  a  cowboy  out  in  New  Mexico,  and  had  been 
employed  to  break  horses.  So  we  gave  the  fellow  a 
trial.  We  brought  out  a  wild  mustang,  and  told  him 
to  show  what  he  could  do.  The  mustang  let  him  get 
on,  as  was  his  custom,  but  after  he  was  fairly  on,  he 
gave  a  jump,  and  Mr.  Cowboy  measured  his  length 
on  the  sawdust." 

Kit  and  Dan  both  smiled  at  this  story. 

"  I  am  not  a  cowboy,  and  don't  profess  to  ride 
bucking  mustangs,"  he  said,  "  though  my  friend  Dan 
may." 

"  I'd  rather  be  excused,"  put  in  Dan. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,  kid,  if  you'll  go  through  the 
performance  you've  just  seen  I'll  give  you  five  dol 
lars." 

The  fellow  expected  Kit  would  make  some  hasty 
excuse,  but  he  was  mistaken.  Our  hero  rose  from  hia 


16  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

seat,  removed  his  coat  and  vest,  and  bounded  into 
the  arena. 

"  I  am  ready,"  he  said,  "  but  I  am  not  strong 
enough  to  be  the  under  man.  I'll  do  the  other." 

"All  right!    Go  ahead!" 

The  speaker  put  himself  in  position.  Kit  gave  a 
spring,  and  in  an  instant  was  upon  his  shoulders. 

There  was  an  exclamation  of  surprise  from  the 
second  acrobat. 

"  Christopher ! "  he  exclaimed.  "  The  boy's  got 
something  in  him,  after  all." 

"  Now  what  shall  I  do  ?  "  asked  Kit,  as  with  folded 
arms  he  stood  on  the  acrobat's  shoulders. 

"  Keep  your  place  while  I  walk  round  the  arena." 

Kit  maintained  his  position  while  the  acrobat  ran 
round  the  circle,  increasing  his  pace  on  purpose  to 
dislodge  his  young  associate.  But  Kit  was  too  well 
used  to  this  act  to  be  embarrassed.  He  held  himself 
erect,  and  never  swerved  for  an  instant. 

"  Pretty  good,  kid !  "  said  the  acrobat.  "  Now  re 
verse  yourself  and  stand  on  my  hands  with  your  feet 
in  the  air."  , 

Kit  made  the  change  skillfully,  and  to  the  equal 
surprise  of  Dan  and  the  other  acrobat,  both  of  whom 
applauded  without  stint. 

"  Can  you  do  anything  else?"  asked  Alonzo  Vin- 
centi. 

"Yes." 

Kit  went  through  a  variety  of  other  feats,  and 
then  descending  from  his  elevated  perch,  was  about 
to  resume  his  coat  and  vest,  when  the  circus  per 
former  asked  him,  "  Can  you  tumble  ?  " 

Kit's  answer  was  to  roll  over  the  arena  in  a  suc 
cession  of  somersaults  and  hand  springs. 

"  Well,  I'm  beat !  "  said  the  acrobat.    "  You're  the 


KIT  ASTONISHES  TWO  ACROBATS.  17 

smartest  kid  I  ever  met  in  my  travels.  Are  you  sure 
you're  not  a  professional  ?  " 

"  Quite  sure/'  answered  Kit,  smiling. 

"You  never  traveled  with  a  show,  then?" 

Kit  shook  his  head. 

"  Where  on  earth  did  you  pick  up  all  these  acts  ?  " 

"  I  took  lessons  of  Professor  Donaldson." 

"  You  did  !  Well,  that  explains  it.  I  say,  kid,  you 
ought  to  join  a  circus.  You'd  command  a  fine  salary/' 

"  Would  I  ?  How  much  could  I  get  ?  "  asked  Kit, 
with  interest. 

"  Ten  or  twelve  dollars  a  week  and  all  expenses 
paid.  That's  pretty  good  pay  for  a  kid,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  It's  more  than  I  ever  earned  yet,"  answered  Kit, 
with  a  smile. 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  Mr.  Barlow  would  give  you 
that  now.  If  you  ever  make  up  }^our  mind  to  join  a 
show,  come  round  and  see  him." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Kit. 

Soon  after  the  boys  left  the  circus  lot  and  went 
home, 

"  Would  you  really  join  a  circus,  Kit?  "  asked  Dan. 

"  It  isn't  the  life  I  would  choose,"  answered  Kit, 
seriously,  "  but  I  may  have  to  find  some  way  of  earn 
ing  a  living,  and  that  very  soon." 

"  I  thought  your  father  left  you  a  fortune." 

"  So  did  I ;  but  I  hear  that  I  am  to  be  taken  from 
boarding  school,  and  possibly  set  to  work.  Ealph 
has  given  me  a  hint  of  it.  I  shall  soon  know,  as  my 
uncle  intimates  that  he  has  a  communication  to  make 
me." 

"  I  hope  it  isn't  as  bad  as  you  think,  Kit." 

"I  hope  so  too,  but  I  can  tell  you  better  to-mor 
row.  We  will  meet  to-night  at  the  show." 


id  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

A  SCENE  NOT  DOWN  ON  THE  BILLS* 

JUST  before  supper  Kit  was  asked  to  an  interview 
with  his  uncle. 

"  You  wish  to  speak  to  me,  Uncle  Stephen  ?  "  he 
said. 

"  Yes ;  I  have  decided  not  to  postpone  the  expla 
nation  for  which  you  asked  yesterday/7 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  hear  it,  sir/7 

"  Ever  since  your  father's  death  I  have  supported 
you,,  not  because  I  was  morally  or  legally  bound  to 
do  so,  but  because  you  were  my  nephew." 

"  But  didh7t  my  father  leave  any  property  ?  77  asked 
Kit  in  amazement. 

"  He  was  supposed  to  have  done  so.77 

"  This  house  and  grounds  are  surely  worth  a  good 
deal  of  money  ! 77 

"  So  they  are/7  answered  Stephen  Watson,  dryly, 
"but  unfortunately  they  did  not  belong  to  your 
father.77 

"  This  is  certainly  a  mistake,77  exclaimed  Kit,  in 
dignantly. 

"  Wait  till  I  have  finished.  These  stood  in  your 
father's  name,  but  there  was  a  mortgage  of  two  thou 
sand  dollars  held  by  the  Smyrna  Savings  Bank.77 

"  Surely  the  place  is  worth  far  more  than  two  thou 
sand  dollars ! 77 

"  Curb  your  impatience,  and  you  will  soon  under 
stand  me.  The  place  is  worth  far  more  than  two 
thousand  dollars.  I  consider  it  worth  ten  thousand.7' 


A   SCENE   NOT   DOWN   ON   THE  BILLS.         19 

"  Then  I  don't  see— 

"  Your  father  left  large  debts,  which  of  course  had 
to  be  paid.  I  was  therefore  obliged  to  sell  the  es 
tate,  in  order  to  realize  the  necessary  funds/' 

"  For  how  much  did  you  sell  the  place  ?  " 

"  For  nine  thousand  dollars.  I  regarded  that  as  a 
good  price,  considering  that  it  was  paid  in  cash  or 
the  equivalent.'7 

"To  whom  did  you  sell?" 

"  I  bought  it  in  myself ;  I  was  not  willing  that 
the  place  which  my  brother  had  loved  so  well,  should 
into  the  hands  of  strangers/7 

"May  I  ask  who  was  my  father's  principal  cred 
itor?"  asked  Kit. 

"  Ahem !  I  was,"  answered  Stephen  Watson,  in  a 
tone  of  slight  embarrassment. 

"  You !  "  exclaimed  Kit,  in  fresh  surprise. 

"  Yes ;  your  father  owed  me  twelve  thousand  dol 
lars  borrowed  at  various  times." 

"  How  could  he  have  been  obliged  to  borrow  so 
much  ?  "  asked  Kit.  "  He  always  seemed  comfortably 
situated.  I  never  once  heard  him  complain  of  being 
pressed  for  money." 

"Very  likely;  he  was  very  reticent  about  his  af 
fairs.  I  would  explain,  but  the  matter  is  rather  a 
delicate  one." 

"  I  think  I  am  entitled  to  know  all  about  it,  Uncle 
Stephen,"  said  Kit,  firmly. 

"  Be  it  so !  Perhaps  you  are  right.  Let  me  tell 
you  in  the  briefest  terms,  then,  that  in  his  later  years 
your  father  speculated  in  Wall  Street — not  heavily, 
for  he  had  not  the  means,  but  heavily  for  one  of  his 
property.  Of  course  he  lost.  Almost  every  one 
does,  who  ventures  into  the  '  street.'  His  first  losses, 
instead  of  deterring  him  from  further  speculation, 


20  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

led  him  on  to  rasher  ventures.  It  was  then  that  he 
came  to  me  for  money." 

"  Didn't  you  urge  him  to  give  up  speculating  ?  " 
asked  Kit. 

"  Yes,  but  my  words  availed  little.  Perhaps  you 
will  think  I  ought  to  have  refused  him  loans,  but  he 
assured  me  in  the  strongest  terms  that  unless  he  ob 
tained  money  from  some  source  he  would  be  ruined, 
and  I  yielded.  I  might  have  been  weak — it  was 
weak,  for  I  stood  a  chance  of  losing  all,  having 
inerely  his  notes  of  hand  to  show  for  the  money  1 
lent.  But  it  is  hard  to  refuse  a  brother.  I  think  I 
should  do  the  same  again/' 

Kit  was  silent.  His  uncle's  words  were-  warm,  arid 
indicated  strong  sympathy  for  Kit's  father,  but  his 
tone  was  cold,  and  there  seemed  a  lack  of  earnestness. 
Kit  could  not  repress  a  feeling  of  incredulity.  There 
was  another  obstacle  to  his  accepting  with  full  cre 
dence  the  tale  which  his  uncle  told  him.  He  had  al 
ways  understood  from  his  father  that  his  uncle  was  a 
poor  and  struggling  mail.  Mow  could  he  have  in  his 
possession  the  sum  of  twelve  thousand  dollars  to  lend 
his  brother  ?  This  question  was  certainly  difficult  to 
answer.  He  paitsed,  then  refraining  from  discussing 
the  subject,  said: 

"  Why  have  you  not  told  me  this  before,  Uncle 
Stephen?" 

"  Would  it  have  made  you  any  happier?  "  returned 
Stephen  Watson. 

"  No." 

"  Till  you  had  acquired  a  fair  education,  I  tho'ught 
it  better  to  keep  the  unpleasant  truth  from  you.  It 
would  only  have  annoyed  you  to  feel  that  you  owed 
everything  to  my  generosity,  and  were  in  fact  a  child 
of  chafitjr." 


A  SCENE  NOT  DOWN  ON  THE  BILL&        2ft 

Kit's  face  flushed  deeply  as  he  heard  this  expres 
sion  from  his  uncle's  lips. 

"  Do  you  mean  that  my  father  left  absolutely  noth 
ing  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  absolutely  nothing.  Well,  no,  not  quite  that. 
I  think  there  was  a  balance  of  a  little  over  a  hundred 
dollars  left  after  paying  all  debts.  That  is  hardly 
worth  counting." 

"  Yes,  that  is  hardly  worth  counting,"  said  Kit  in 
a  dull,  mechanical  tone. 

"  Still,  I  determined  to  educate  you,  and  give  you 
equal  advantages  with  my  own  son.  I  have  done  so 
up  to  the  present  moment.  I  wish  I  could  continue 
to  do  so,  but  Ralph  is  getting  more  expensive  as  he 
grows  older  (and  you  also),  and  I  cannot  afford  to 
keep  you  both  at  school.  You  will  therefore  stop 
studying,  and  I  shall. secure  you  some  work." 

"  If  things  are  as  you  say,  I  cannot  complain  of 
this,"  Kit  said  in  a  dull,  spiritless  tone,  "  but  it  comes 
upon  me  like  a  thunderbolt." 

"  N~o  doubt,  no  doubt.  I  knew  it  would  be  a  shock, 
and  I  have  postponed  telling  you  as  long  as  pos 
sible." 

"  J  suppose  I  ought  to  thank  you.  Have  you  any 
thing  more  to  say  to  me  now  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Then,  sir,  I  will  leave  you.  I  will  ask  further  par 
ticulars  some  other  day." 

"  He  takes  it  hard,"  muttered  Stephen  Watson, 
eyeing  the  retreating  form  of  his  nephew  thought 
fully.  "  I  wonder  if  he  will  suspect  that  there  is  any 
thing  wrong.  Even  if  he  does,  he  is  only  a  boy,  and 
can  prove  nothing." 

"What  makes  you  so  glum,  Kit?"  asked  Dan 


22  THE   YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

Clark,  when  they  met  at  seven  o'clock,  as  agreed,  to 
go  together  to  the  show. 

"  Not  much,  Dan,  only  I  have  learned  that  I  am  a 
pauper." 

"  But  the  estate — the  house  and  the  grounds  ?  " 
said  Dan,  bewildered. 

"  Belong  to  my  uncle." 

"Who  says  so?" 

"  He  says  so.  But  I  don't  want  to  say  any  more 
about  it  now.  Let  us  start  for  the  circus,  and  I  will 
try  to  forget  my  pauper  position,  for  one  evening  at 
least." 

Before  they  reached  the  lot,  they  heard  the  circus 
band  discoursing  lively  music.  They  were  in  a 
crowd,  for  all  Smyrna,  men,  women  and  children, 
were  bound  for  the  show.  It  was  a  grand  gala  night. 
In  the  city,  where  there  are  many  amusements,  the 
circus  draws  well,  but  in  the  country  everybody  goes. 

Outside  the  great  tent  were  the  side  shows.  In  one 
of  them  Kit  found  his  friends  of  the  morning,  the 
giant,  the  dwarf,  and  the  fat  lady,  with  other  curi 
osities  hereafter  to  be  mentioned.  Just  inside  the 
tent,  in  what  might  be  called  the  ante  chamber,  was 
the  collection  of  animals.  The  elephants  were  ac 
corded  more  freedom  than  the  rest,  but  the  lion,  tiger, 
and  leopard  were  shut  up  in  cages.  The  lion  seemed 
particularly  restless.  He  was  pacing  his  narrow 
quarters,  lashing  his  tail,  and  from  time  to  time  emit 
ting  deep  growls,  betokening  irritation  and  anger. 

"  How  would  you  like  to  go  into  the  cage  ?  "  asked 
Dan. 

"  I  don't  care  for  an  interview  with  his  majesty/' 
responded  Kit. 

A  stranger  was  standing  near  the  cage. 

"  Don't  go  too  near,  boys !  "  he  said.     "  That  lion 


A  SCENE  NOT  DOWN   ON   THE  BILLS.        23 

is  particularly  fierce.  He  nearly  killed  a  man  last 
season  in  Pennsylvania." 

"  How  was  that  ?  " 

"  The  man  ventured  too  near  the  cage.  The  lion 
stretched  out  his  claws,  and  fastened  them  in  the 
man's  shoulder,  lacerating  it  fearfully  before  he  could 
be  released.  He  came  near  dying  of  blood  poison 
ing/' 

Kit  and  Dan  sheered  off.  The  lion  looked  wicked 
enough  to  kill  a  dozen  men. 

At  eight  o'clock  the  performance  commenced. 
First  there  was  a  procession  of  elephants  and  horses, 
the  latter  carrying  the  bareback  riders  and  other 
members  of  the  circus,  with  the  curiosities  and  freaks. 
Then  came  two  bareback  riders,  who  jumped  through 
hoops,  and  over  banners,  and  performed  somersaults, 
to  the  wondering  delight  of  the  boys.  Then  came 
tumblers,  and  in  preparation  for  another  scene  a 
gaudily  dressed  clown  entered  the  ring.  Suddenly 
there  was  heard  a  deep  baying  sound,  which  struck 
terror  into  every  heart.  It  was  the  lion^  but  seemed 
close  at  hand.  In  an  instant  a  dark,  cat-like  form, 
rushing  down  the  aisle,  sprang  into  the  ring. 

The  great  Numidian  lion  had  broken  from  his  cage, 
and  the  life  of  every  one  in  the  audience  was  in  peril. 
Ladies  shrieked,  strong  men  grew  pale,  and  all  wildly 
looked  about  for  some  way  of  escape. 

Striking  down  the  clown,  and  standing  with  one 
foot  on  the  prostrate  form,  the  lion's  cruel  eyes 
wandered  slowly  over  the  vast  assemblage. 

Only  ten  feet  from  him,  in  front  seats,  sat  Kit  and 
Dan. 

Kit  rose  in  his  seat  pale  and  excited,  but  with  a 
resolute  fire  in  his  eyes.  He  had  thought  of  a  way  to 
vanquish  the  lion, 


24  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT, 


CHAPTER  V. 

HOW  KIT  VANQUISHED  THE  LIOK. 

THE  danger  was  imminent.  Under  the  canvas 
there  were  at  least  two  thousand  spectators.  Smyrna 
had  less  than  five  thousand  inhabitants,  but  from 
towns  around  there  were  numerous  excursion  parties, 
which  helped  to  swell  the  number  present.  Had  these 
people  foreseen  the  terrible  scene  not  down  on  the 
bills,  they  would  have  remained  at  home  and  locked 
the  doors  of  their  houses.  But  danger  is  seldom  antici 
pated  and  peril  generally  finds  us  unprepared. 

Dan  Clark  saw  Kit  about  to  leave  his  seat. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  "  he  cried. 

"  I  am  going  into  the  arena." 

"  What  ?  Are  you  out  of  your  head  ?  "  asked  Dan, 
and  he  took  hold  of  Kit  to  detain  him.  But  the  boy 
tore  himself  from  the  grasp  of  his  friend,  and  with 
blanched  brow,  for  he  knew  full  well  the  risk  he  ran, 
he  sprang  over  the  parapet,  and  in  an  instant  he  stood 
in  the  sawdust  circle  facing  the  angry  monarch  of 
the  wilds,  whose  presence  had  struck  terror  into  the 
hearts  of  two  thousand  members  of  a  superior  race. 

The  sudden  movement  of  Kit  created  a  sensation 
only  less  than  the  appearance  of  the  lion. 

The  residents  of  Smyrna  all  knew  him,  but  they 
could  not  understand  the  cause  of  his  apparent  fool- 
hardiness. 

"  Come  back !  Come  away,  for  your  life ! "  ex 
claimed  dozens  of  Kit's  friends  and  acquaintances. 


HOW  KIT  VANQUISHED  THE  LION.  2$ 

i 

"  Who  is  that  boy  ?  Is  he  one  of  the  circus  men  ?  " 
asked  strangers  who  were  present. 

"  You  will  be  killed,  Kit !  Come  back !  "  implored 
Dan  Clark,  appalled  at  the  danger  of  his  friend. 

Kit  heard,  but  did  not  heed,  the  various  calls.  He 
knew  what  he  was  about,  and  he  did  not  mean  to  be 
killed.  But  there  seemed  the  greatest  danger  of  it. 
He  was  six  feet  from  the  angry  beast,  who  lashed  his 
tail  with  renewed  wrath,  when  he  saw  his  new  and 
puny  foe.  Kit  knew,  however,  that  the  lion's  method 
of  attack  is  to  spring  upon  his  victims,  and  that  he 
needs  a  space  of  from  twelve  to  fifteen  feet  to  do  it. 
He  himself,  being  but  six  feet  distant,  was  within  the 
necessary  space.  The  lion  must  increase  the  distance 
between  them  in  order  to  accomplish  its  purpose. 

Now  it  happened  that  Mr.  Watson  had  in  his  kit 
chen  an  elderly  woman,  who  had  for  years  been  ad 
dicted  to  the  obnoxious  habit  of  snuff  taking — a  habit, 
I  am  glad  to  be  able  to  say,  which  is  far  less  prevalent 
now  than  in  former  days.  Just  before  Kit  had 
started  for  the  circus,  Ellen,  who  was  a  Scotch  wo 
man,  said :  "  Master  Kit,  if  you  are  going  near  the 
store,  will  you  buy  me  a  quarter  of  a  pound  of 
snuff?" 

"  Certainly,  Ellen,"  answered  Kit,  who  was  always 
obliging. 

The  snuff  he  had  in  his  pocket  at  the  time  of  the 
lion's  appearance  in  the  ring,  and  it  was  the  thought 
of  this  unusual  but  formidable  weapon  that  gave  him 
courage.  If  he  had  merely  had  a  pistol  or  revolver 
in  his  pocket,  he  would  not  have  ventured,  for  he  knew 
that  a  wound  would  only  make  the  lion  fiercer  and 
more  dangerous. 

The  lion  stood  stock  still  for  a  moment.  Apparent 
ly  he  was  amazed  at  the  daring  of  the  boy  who  had 


26  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

rushed  into  his  presence.  His  fierce  eyes  began  to 
roll  wickedly  and  he  uttered  one  of  those  deep,  hoarse 
growls,  such  as  are  wont  to  strike  fear  alike  into  ani 
mals  and  men.  He  glared  at  Kit  very  much  as  a 
cat  surveys  a  puny  mouse  whom  she  purposes  to  make 
her  victim. 

It  was  a  few  brief  seconds,  but  to  the  audience, 
who  were  spellbound,  and  scarcely  dared  to  breathe, 
it  seemed  as  many  minutes  that  the  boy  and  lion 
stood  confronting  each  other  without  moving.  In 
deed,  Kit  stood  as  if  fascinated  before  the  mighty 
beast,  and  a  thrill  passed  through  his  frame  as  he 
realized  the  terrible  danger  into  which  he  had  impul 
sively  rushed.  But  he  knew  full  well  that  his  peril 
was  each  instant  growing  greater.  He  could  not  re 
treat  now,  for  the  furious  beast  would  improve  the 
chance  to  spring  upon  him  and  rend  him  to  pieces. 

With  curious  deliberation  he  drew  from  his  pocket 
a  paper  parcel,  while  the  lion,  as  if  stirred  by  curios 
ity,  e>yed  him  attentively.  He  opened  it  carefully, 
and  then,  without  an  instant's  delay,  he  flung  a  hand 
ful  of  the  snuff  which  it  contained  full  in  the  eyes  of 
the  terrible  animal. 

No  sooner  had  he  done  so  than  he  gave  a  spring, 
and  in  a  flash  was  over  the  parapet  and  back  in  his 
seat. 

It  was  not  a  moment  too  soon ! 

The  lion  was  blinded  by  the  snuff,  which  caused 
him  intense  pain.  He  released  the  terrified  clown, 
who  lost  no  time  in  escaping  from  the  arena,  while 
the  vanquished  beast  rolled  around  on  the  sawdust 
in  his  agony,  sending  forth  meanwhile  the  most  ter 
rible  roars. 

By  this  time  the  circus  management  had  recovered 
from  its  momentary  panic.  The  trainer  and  half  a 


HOW  KIT  VANQUISHED   THE   LION.  2/ 

dozen  animal  men  (those  whose  duty  it  was  to  take 
care  of  the  animals)  rushed  into  the  circle,  and  soon 
obtained  the  mastery  of  the  lion,  whose  pain  had  sub- 
clued  his  fury,  and  who  was  now  moaning  piteously. 

Then  through  the  crowded  tent  there  ran  a  thrill 
of  admiration  for  the  boy  who  had  delivered  them 
all  from  a  terrible  danger. 

One  man,  an  enthusiastic  Western  visitor,  sprang 
to  his  feet,  and,  waving  his  hat,  exclaimed :  "  Three 
cheers  for  the  brave  boy,  who  has  shown  more  courage 
than  all  the  rest  of  us  put  together !  Hip,  hip,  hur 
rah  !  " 

The  call  was  responded  to  with  enthusiasm.  Men 
and  even  women  rose  in  their  seats,  and  joined  in  the 
cheering.  But  some  of  the  friends  of  Kit  amended 
the  suggestion  by  crying,  "  Hurrah  for  Kit  Watson !  " 

"Hurrah  for  Kit  Watson!"  cried  the  Western 
man.  "  He's  the  pluckiest  kid  I  ever  saw  yet." 

Kit  had  not  been  frightened  before,  but  he  felt  un 
deniably  nervous  when  he  saw  the  eyes  of  two  thou 
sand  people  fixed  upon  him.  He  blushed  and  seemed 
disposed  to  screen  himself  from  observation.  But  at 
this  moment  a  tall,  portly  man  advanced  from  the 
front  of  the  tent,  and  came  up  to  where  Kit  was  sit 
ting. 

"  My  boy,"  he  said,  "  do  me  the  favor  to  follow  me. 
I  am  Mr.  Barlow." 

It  was  indeed  the  proprietor  of  the  circus.  He  had 
come  in  person  to  greet  the  boy  who  had  averted 
such  a  tragedy. 

Mechanically  Kit  followed  Mr.  Barlow,  who  led 
him  again  into  the  arena.  Then  the  manager  cleared 
his  throat,  and  said : 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  have  nothing  to  show 
you  here  to-night  that  is  better  worth  your  attention 


28  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

than  the  young  man  whoes  heroic  act  you  have  just 
witnessed  and  profited  by.  I  introduce  to  you  the 
boy  hero,  Kit  Watson !  " 

"  Speech !  speech !  "  exclaimed  the  spectators,  after 
a  liberal  meed  of  applause. 

Kit  stood  erect,  and  spoke  modestly. 

"  I  don't  pretend  to  be  a  hero,"  he  said.  "  I  was  as 
much  frightened  as  anybody,  but  I  thought  of  the 
snuff  in  my  pocket,  and  I  recalled  to  mind  a  story  of 
a  man  who  subdued  a  lunatic  by  means  of  it.  So,  on 
the  impulse  of  the  moment,  I  jumped  into  the  ring. 
I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  your  cheers,  and  I 
wish  I  was  as  brave  as  you  seem  to  think.  I  won't 
take  up  any  more  of  your  time,  for  I  know  you  want 
the  show  to  go  on/' 

Kit  retired  amid  a  burst  of  applause,  and  resumed 
his  seat. 

The  entertainment  of  the  evening  now  proceeded, 
greatly  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  crowded  ranks  of 
spectators.  But  from  time  to  time  glances  were  cast 
towards  the  seat  which  Kit  occupied. 

"  Kit,"  whispered  Dan,  "  I  am  proud  of  you !  I 
didn't  think  you  had  it  in  you." 

"  Don't  say  any  more,  Dan,  or  I  shall  become  so 
vain  you  can't  endure  me.  Look !  there  are  our 
friends,  the  acrobats."  koarst  ?K^rT 


CHAPTER  VI. 

KIT'S  POOR  PROSPECTS. 

THERE  was  one  of  the  spectators  who  did  not  ad 
mire  Kit's  heroic  conduct,  nor  join  in  the  applause 
which  was  so  liberally  showered  upon  him.  This  was 
Ealph  Watson,  who  sat  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 


KIT'S  POOR  PROSPECTS.  29 

tent,  with  his  chum,  James  Schuyler,  a  boy  who  had 
recently  come  to  Smyrna  from  the  city  of  New  York. 
Ralph  had  been  very  pale  when  the  lion  first  made 
his  appearance  in  the  arena,  and  trembled  with  fear, 
and  no  one  had  felt  greater  relief  when  the  danger 
was  past.  But,  being  naturally  of  a  jealous  disposi 
tion,  he  was  very  much  annoyed  by  the  sudden  pop 
ularity  won  by  Kit. 

"  Isn't  that  your  cousin  ?  "  asked  Jarries  Schuyler. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Ralph  shortly. 

"  What  a  brave  boy  he  is !  " 

Ralph  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  I  don't  see  much  bravery  about  it,"  he  said.  "  It 
isn't  as  if  the  lion  was  a  wild  one  in  his  native  forest. 
This  one  was  tame." 

"  He  didn't  look  very  tame  to  me,"  rejoined  James, 
who,  though  rather  snobbish,  was  willing  to  admit  the 
danger  they  had  all  incurred.  "  The  people  didri't 
think  so  either.  Hear  them  cheer  your  cousin." 

"  It  will  make  him  terribly  conceited.  He  will 
actually  think  he's  a  hero." 

"  1  wouldn't  have  given  much  for  any  of  our  lives 
if  he  hadn't  jumped  into  the  ring,  and  blinded  the 
lion." 

Meanwhile  Kit  was  enjoying  the  performance,  and 
thinking  very  little  of  how  his  action  would  be  re- 
guarded  by  Ralph,  for  whom  he  had  no  very  cordial 
feeling,  though  they  had  been,  from  the  necessity  of 
the  case,  close  companions  for  many  years. 

On  their  return  home,  Kit  and  Ralph  reached  the 
gate  together. 

"  It  seems  you're  a  great  hero  all  at  once,"  said 
ftalph,  with  a  sneer. 

Kit  understood  the  sneer,  but  did  not  choose  to 
notice  it. 


3O  THE   YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"Thank  you  for  the  compliment/'  he  responded 
quietly. 

"  0,  I  didn't  mean  to  flatter  you !  You  are  puffed 
up  enough." 

"  Are  you  sorry  I  jumped  into  the  ring,  Ralph  ?  " 
asked  Kit  good-naturedly. 

"  I  don't  believe  there  was  any  real  danger." 

"  Then  I  must  congratulate  you  upon  your  cour 
age.  All  the  rest  of  us  were  frightened,  and  even 
Mr.  Barlow  admitted  that  there  was  danger." 

"  The  lion  was  half  tame.  It  isn't  as  if  he  were 
wild." 

"  He  looked  wild  enough  to  me  when  I  faced  him 
in  the  ring.  I  confess  that  my  knees  began  to  trem 
ble,  and  I  wished  myself  at  home." 

"  You'd  better  set  up  as  a  lion  tamer,"  said  Ralph. 

"  Thank  you ;  I  think  I  should  prefer  some  other 
business,  where  my  life  would  be  safer." 

"  You  are  likely  to  have  your  wish,  then." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  Kit  quickly,  detect 
ing  a  significance  in  Ralph's  tone. 

"  I  mean  that  father  intends  to  have  you  learn  a 
trade." 

"Has  he  told  you  so?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Doesn't  he  propose  to  consult  me  ?  " 

"  Why  should  he  ?  You  are  only  a  boy,  and  can't 
judge  what  is  best  for  yourself." 

"  Still  I  am  likely  to  be  more  interested  than  any 
one  else  in  the  way  I  am  to  earn  my  living.  What 
trade  are  you  going  to  learn  ?  " 

"  What  trade  am  I  going  to  learn  ? "  repeated 
Ralph,  with  the  assumption  of  insulted  dignity. 
"  None  at  all.  I  shall  be  a  merchant  or  a  professional 


KIT'S  POOR  PROSPECTS.  jf 

<•  And  why  should  not  I  be  the  same  ?  "  asked  Kit. 

"  Because  you're  a  poor  boy.  Didn't  my  father  tell 
you  this  afternoon  that  you  had  no  money  coming  to 
you  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  but  that  needn't  prevent  me  from  becoming 
a  merchant,  or  studying  a  profession." 

"  So  you  think.  You  can't  expect  my  father  to 
pay  for  sending  you  to  college,  or  support  you  while 
you  are  qualifying  yourself  to  be  a  merchant." 

"  I  don't  know  yet  what  I  am  entitled  to  expect." 

"  You  will  soon  know." 

"How  soon?" 

"  To-morrow.  There's  a  blacksmith  in  the  next 
town,  Aaron  Bickford,  who  has  agreed  to  take  you  as 
an  apprentice." 

"  So  it's  all  settled,  is  it  ?  "  Kit  asked,  full  of  indig 
nation. 

"  Yes,  if  Mr.  Bickford  likes  your  appearance.  He's 
coming  to  Smyrna  on  business  to-morrow,  and  will 
call  here.  You're  to  live  at  his  house." 

"  Indeed !  I  am  very  much  obliged  for  the  infor 
mation." 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  get  grouty  about  it.  I've  no 
doubt  }^ou'll  have  enough  to  eat." 

"  So  I  am  to  be  a  blacksmith,  and  you  a  merchant 
or " 

"  Lawyer.  I  think  I  shall  decide  to  be  a  lawyer," 
said  Ralph,  complacently. 

"  That  will  make  quite  a  difference  in  our  social 
positions." 

"Of  course ;  but  I  will  help  you  all  I  can.  If  you 
have  a  shop  of  your  own,  I  will  have  my  horses  shod 
at  your  place." 

"  Does  your  father  think  I  am  particularly  well 
fitted  to  be  a  blacksmith  ?  " 


32  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"He  thinks  you  will  get  along  very  veil  in  the 
business,  if  you  are  industrious.  A  poor  boy  can't 
choose.  He  must  take  the  best  he  can  get." 

Kit  did  not  sleep  very  much  that  night.  He  was 
full  of  anger  and  indignation  with  his  uncle.  Why 
should  his  future  be  so  different  from  his  cousin's? 
At  school  he  had  distinguished  himself  more  in  his 
studies,  and  he  did  not  see  why  he  was  not  as  well 
fitted  to  become  a  merchant  or  a  lawyer  as  Ralph. 

"  They  can't  make  me  a  blacksmith  without  my 
consent/'  was  his  final  thought,  as  he  closed  his  eyes 
and  went  to  sleep. 

Kit  was  up  early  the  next  morning.  As  breakfast 
was  not  ready,  he  strolled  over  to  the  hotel,  which 
was  only  five  minutes'  walk  from  his  uncle's  house. 

The  circus  tent  had  vanished.  Late  at  night,  after 
the  evening  performance  was  over,  the  canvas  men 
had  busied  themselves  in  taking  them  down,  and 
packing  them  for  transportation  to  a  town  ten  miles 
distant  on  the  railroad,  where  they  were  to  give  two 
exhibitions  the  next  day.  The  showy  chariots,  the 
lions,  tigers,  elephants  and  camels,  with  all  the  per 
formers,  were  gone.  But  Mr.  Barlow,  the  owner  of 
the  circus,  had  remained  at  the  Smyrna  Hotel  all 
night,  preferring  to  journey  comfortably  the  next 
morning. 

He  was  sitting  on  the  piazza  when  Kit  passed. 
Though  he  had  never  seen  Kit  but  once,  his  business 
made  him  observant  of  faces,  and  he  recognized  him 
immediately. 

"  Aha !  "  he  said,  "  this  is  the  young  hero  of  last 
evening,  is  it  not  ?  " 

Kit  smiled. 

"  I  am  the  boy  who  jumped  into  the  ring/'  he  said. 

"  So  I  thought.  I  hope  you  slept  well  after  the 
excitement." 


33 

'A  sudden  thought  came  to  Kit.  Mr.  Barlow  looked 
like  a  kind  hearted  man,  and  he  had  already  shown 
that  he  was  well  disposed  toward  him. 

"  I  slept  very  poorly/'  he  said. 

"  Was  it  the  thought  of  the  danger  you  had  been 
in?" 

"  No,  sir ;  I  learned  that  my  uncle,  without  con 
sulting  me,  had  arranged  to  apprentice  me  tQ  a 
blacksmith." 

Mr.  Barlow  looked  surprised. 

"  But  you  look  like  a  boy  of  independent  means," 
he  said,  puzzled. 

"  I  have  always  supposed  that  this  was  the  case/' 
said  Kit,  "  but  my  uncle  told  me  yesterday,  to  my 
surprise,  that  I  was  dependent  upon  him,  and  had 
no  expectations." 

"  You  don't  want  to  be  a  blacksmith  ?  " 

"  No,  sir;  I  consider  any  kind  of  work  honorable, 
but  that  would  not  suit  me." 

"  You  would  succeed  well  in  my  business/'  said 
the  showman,  "but  I  am  very  careful  how  I  recom 
mend  it  to  boys.  It  isn't  a  good  school  for  them. 
They  are  exposed  to  many  temptations  in  it.  But 
if  a  boy  has  a  strong  will,  and  good  principles,  he 
may  avoid  all  the  evils  connected  with  it." 

Kit  had  not  thought  of  it  before,  but  now  the  ques 
tion  suggested  itself:  "Why  should  I  not  join  the 
circus.  I  should  like  it  better  than  being  a  black 
smith." 

"  How  much  do  you  pay  acrobats  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Are  you  an  acrobat  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Barlow. 

Kit  told  the  story  of  his  practicing  with  the  Vin 
cent  Brothers. 

"  Good  \  v  said  Mr.  Barlow.  "If  they  indorse  you, 
it  is  sufficient.  3^  you  decide  to  join  my  company,  I 


34  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

will  give  you,  to  begin  with,  ten  dollars  a  week  and 
your  expenses." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Kit,  dazzled  by  the  offer, 
<s  Where  will  you  be  on  Saturday  ?  " 

"  At  Grafton  on  Saturday,  and  Milltown  on  Mon 
day." 

"  If  I  decide  to  join  you,  I  will  do  so  at  one  or  the 
other  of  those  places." 

Here  the  railroad  omnibus  came  up,  and  Mr. 
Barlow  entered  it,  for  he  was  to  leave  by  the  next 
train. 


CHAPTEK  VII. 

AARON   BICKFORD,   THE   BLACKSMITH. 

KIT  returned  to  breakfast  in  good  spirits.  He  saw 
a  way  out  of  his  difficulties.  Though  he  had  no  false 
pride,  he  felt  that  a  blacksmith's  life  would  be  dis 
tasteful  to  him.  He  was  fond  of  study,  and  had 
looked  forward  to  a  college  course.  Now  this  was 
out  of  the  question.  It  seemed  that  he  was  as  poor 
as  his  friend,  Dan  Clark,  with  his  own  way  to  make 
in  the  world.  When  he  left  school,  at  the  beginning 
of  the  vacation,  he  supposed  that  he  would  inherit  a 
competence.  It  was  certainly  a  great  change  in  his 
prospects,  but  now  he  did  not  feel  dispirited.  He 
thought,  upon  the  whole,  he  would  enjoy  traveling 
with  the  circus.  His  duties  would  be  light,  and  the 
pay  liberal. 

Before  he  returned  to  breakfast,  Ralph  had  come 
down-stairs,  and  had  a  few  words  with  his  father. 

"  I  think  you  are  going  to  have  trouble  with  Kit, 
father,"  he  commenced. 


AARON   BICKFORD,    THE   BLACKSMITH.        35 

"  What  makes  you  think  so,  and  what  about  ? " 
asked  Mr.  Watson. 

"  I  told  him  last  evening  about  your  plan  of  ap 
prenticing  him  to  Mr.  Bickford." 

"  You  did  wrong.  I  did  not  propose  to  mention 
the  matter  to  him  till  Mr.  Bickford's  arrival.  What 
did  he  say  ?  " 

"  He  turned  up  his  nose  at  the  idea.  He  thinks  he 
ought  to  become  a  merchant  or  a  professional  man 
like  me.  He  is  too  proud  to  be  a  blacksmith/' 

"  Then  he  must  put  his  pride  in  his  pocket.  It 
will  be  all  I  can  do  to  pay  the  expenses  of  your  edu 
cation.  I  can't  provide  for  two  boys." 

u  When  Kit  is  off  your  hands  won't  you  increase 
my  allowance,  father  ?  "  asked  Ealph,  insinuatingly. 

"  Suppose  we  postpone  that  matter/7  replied  Mr. 
Watson,  in  a  tone  of  voice  that  was  not  encouraging. 
"  I  have  lost  some  money  lately,  and  I  can't  do  any 
thing  more  for  you  just  at  present." 

Ralph  looked  disappointed,  but  did  not  venture  to 
press  the  subject. 

"  Where  have  you  been,  Kit  ?  "  he  asked,  as  he  saw 
his  cousin  entering  the  gate,  and  coming  up  the  path 
to  the  front  door. 

"  I  have  been  taking  a  walk,"  answered  Kit,  cheer 
fully, 

"  It's  a  good  idea  to  rise  early." 

"Why?" 

"Because  you  will  probably  be  required  to  do  so 
in  your  new  place." 

"  What  new  place  ?  " 

"  At  the  blacksmith's." 

Kit  smiled.  To  Ealph's  surprise  he  did  not  appear 
to  be  annoyed. 

"  I  see  you  are  getting  reconciled  to  the  idea. 
Last  evening  you  seemed  to  dislike  it." 


36  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"Your  father  has  not  said  anything  about  it  to 
Hie." 

"  He  will  very  soon." 

"Won't  you  come  round  and  see  m«  occasionally, 
Ralph  ?  "  asked  Kit,  with  a  curious  smile. 

"Yes;  I  may  call  on  Saturday.  I  should  like  to 
see  how  you  look." 

Kit  smiled  again.  He  thought  it  extremely  doubt 
ful  whether  Ralph  would  see  him  at  the  blacksmith's 
forge. 

Half  an  hour  after  breakfast,  while  Ealph  and  Kit 
were  in  the  stable,  the  sound  of  wheels  was  heard, 
and  a  stout,  broad-shouldered  man,  with  a  bronzed 
complexion,  drove  up  in  a  farm  wagon.  Throwing 
his  reins  over  the  horse's  neck,  he  descended  from 
the  wagon,  and  turned  in  at  the  gate.  Mr.  Watson, 
who  had  been  sitting  at  the  front  window,  opened 
the  door  for  him. 

"  Glad  to  see  yon,  Mr.  Bickford,"  he  said. 

"Is  the  boy  ready?"  asked  the  blacksmith.  "X 
can  take  him  right  over  with  me  this  morning." 

"  C'ome  into  the  house,  I  will  send  for  him." 

Mr.  Bickford  noticed  the  handsome  appearance  of 
the  hall,  and  the  front  room,  the  door  of  which  was 
partly  open,  and  sftid :  "  If  the  boy's  beeri  used  to 
livin'  here,  he  must  be  kind  of  high  strung.  I  can't 
give  him  no  such  home  as  this." 

"  Of  course  not,  Mr.  Bickford.  He  can't  expect  it. 
He's  a  poor  boy,  arid  will  have  to  make  his  own 
way  in  the  world.  Beggars  can't  be  choosers,  you 
know." 

A  servant  was  sent  to  the  stable  to  summon  Kit. 
Ralph,  who  thought  he  should  enjoy  the  scene,  ac< 
companied  him. 

Kit  regarded  the  blacksmith  with  some  curiosity. 


AARON  BICKFORD,  THE  BLACKSMITH.       37 

"  This  is  Mr.  Aaron  Bickford,  of  Oakford,  Kit/' 
began  his  uncle. 

"  I  hope  you  are  well,  Mr.  Bickford,"  said  Kit,  po 
litely. 

The  blacksmith  gazed  at  Kit  with  earnest  scru 
tiny. 

"  Humph !  "  said  he ;  "  are  you  strong  and  muscu 
lar?" 

"  Pretty  fair/5  answered  Kit,  with  a  smile. 

"  Kit,"  said  his  uncle,  clearing  his  throat,  "  in  your 
circumstances  I  have  thought  it  desirable  that  you 
should  learn  a  trade,  and  have  spoken  to  Mr.  Bick- 
ford  about  taking  you  as  an  apprentice." 

"  In  what  business  ?  "  asked  Kit. 

"  I'm  a  blacksmith,"  said  Mr.  Bickford,  taking  it 
upon  himself  to  reply,  "and  it's  a  good,  healthy 
business  as  any  you'd  want  to  follow." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it,"  said  Kit,  quietly,  "  but  I 
don't  think  I  should  like  it  all  the  same.  Undo 
Stephen,  how  does  it  happen  that  you  have  selected 
such  a  business  for  me  ?  " 

"  I  heard  that  Mr.  Bickford  needed  an  apprentice, 
and  I  have  arranged  matters  with  him  to  take  you, 
and  teach  you  his  trade." 

"  Yes,"  put  in  Mr.  Bickford,  "  I've  agreed  to  give 
you  your  board  and  a  dollar  a  week  the  first  year. 
That's  more  than  I  got  when  I  was  'prentice.  My 
old  master  only  paid  me  fifty  cents  a  week." 

Kit  turned  to  his  uncle. 

"  Do  you  think  my  education  has  fitted  me  for  a 
blacksmith's  trade  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  It  won't  interfere,"  replied  Mr.  Watson,  a  little 
uneasily. 

"  Wouldn't  it  have  been  well  to  consult  me  in  the 
matter  ?  It  seems  to  me  I  am  rather  interested/' 


38  THE  YOUNG   ACROBAT. 

"Oh,  I  supposed  you  would  object,  as  you  had 
been  looking  forward  to  being  a  gentleman,  but  I 
can't  afford  to  keep  you  in  idleness  any  longer,  and 
so  have  arranged  matters  with  Mr.  Bickford." 

"  Suppose  I  object  to  going  with  him  ?  "  said  Kit, 
calmly. 

"  Then  I  shall  overrule  your  objections,  and  com 
pel  you  to  do  what  I  think  is  for  your  good." 

Kit's  eye  flashed  with  transient  anger,  but  as  he 
had  no  idea  of  acceding  to  his  uncle's  order,  he  did 
not  allow  himself  to  become  unduly  excited.  Indeed 
he  had  a  plan,  which  made  temporary  submission  a 
matter  of  policy. 

"What's  the  boy's  name?"  asked  Aaron  Bick- 
ford. 

"  I  am  generally  called  Kit.  My  right  name  is 
Christopher." 

se  Then,  Kit,  you'd  better  be  getting  your  traps  to 
gether,  for  I  can't  stop  long  away  from  the  shop." 

"  I  have  arranged  to  have  you  go  back  with  Mr. 
Bickford  to-day,"  said  Stephen  Watson. 

"  That's  rather  short  notice,  isn't  it  ? "  Kit  re 
joined. 

"  The  sooner  the  matter  is  arranged,  the  better ! " 
answered  his  uncle. 

"  Very  well/'  said  Kit,  with  unexpected  submission. 
"  I'll  go  and  pack  up  my  clothes." 

Mr.  Watson  looked  relieved.  He  had  expected  to 
have  more  trouble  with  his  nephew. 

In  twenty  minutes  Kit  reappeared  with  his  school 
valise.  He  had  packed  up  a  supply  of  shirts,  socks, 
handkerchiefs,  and  underclothing. 

"  I  am  all  ready,"  he  said. 

"  Then  we'll  be  going,"  said  the  blacksmith,  rising 
with  alacrity. 


KIT'S   RIDE   TO    OAKFORD.  39 

Kit  took  his  place  on  the  seat  beside  Mr.  Bickford. 

"  Good-by,  uncle !  "  he  ^tdd;  u  it  may  be  some  time 
before  we  meet  again." 

"  What  does  the  boy  mean  ?  "  asked  Stephen  Wat 
son,  turning  to  Ralph  with  a  puzzled  look. 

"  I  don't  know.  He's  been  acting  queer  all  the 
morning.'7 

So  Kit  rode  away  with  Aaron  Bickford,  but  he  had 
not  the  slightest  intention  of  becoming  blacksmith. 
Instead  of  blacksmith's  forges,  visions  of  a  circus 
ring  and  acrobatic  feats  were  dancing  before  his 
mind. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

KIT'S  RIDE  TO  OAKFORD. 

OAKFORD  was  six  miles  away.  The  blacksmith's 
horse  was  seventeen  years  old,  and  did  not  make  very 
good  speed.  Kit  was  unusually  busy  thinking.  He 
had  taken  a  decisive  step ;  he  had,  in  fact,  made  up  his 
mind  to  enter  upon  a  new  life.  He  had  not  objected 
to  going  away  with  the  blacksmith,  because  it  gave 
him  an  excuse  for  packing  up  his  clothes,  and  leav 
ing  the  house  quietly. 

It  may  be  objected  that  he  had  deceived  Mr.  Bick 
ford.  This  was  true,  and  the  thought  of  it  troubled 
him,  but  he  hardly  knew  how  to  explain  matters. 

Not  much  conversation  took  place  till  they  were 
within  a  mile  of  Oakford.  Aaron  Bickford  had  filled 
his  pipe  at  the  beginning  of  the  journey,  and  he  had 
smoked  steadily  ever  since.  At  last  he  removed  his 
pipe  from  his  mouth,  and  put  it  in  his  pocket. 

"  Were  you  ever  in  Oakford  ? "  he  asked. 


40  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  Yes/'  answered  Kit.  "  I  know  the  place  very 
well." 

"  How  do  you  think  yoii'll  like  livin'  there  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  I  shall  like  it." 

Mr.  Bickford  looked  surprised. 

"  I'll  keep  you  at  work  so  stiddy  }rou  won't  mind 
where  you  are/'  he  remarked  dryly. 

"  Not  if  I  know  it/'  Kit  said  to  himself. 

He  kn^w  Mr.  Bickford  by  reputation.  He  was  a 
close-fkied,  miserly  man,  who  was  not  likely  to  be  a 
very  desirable  employer,  for  he  expected  every  one 
who  worked  for  him  to  hibor  as  hard  as  himself. 
Moreover,  he  and  his  wife  lived  in  a  very  stingy  man 
ner,  and  few  of  the  luxuries  of  the  season  appeared 
on  their  table.  The  fact  that  complaints  upon  this 
score  had  been  made  by  some  of  Kit's  predecessors 
in  his  employ,  led  Mr.  Bickford  to  make  inquiries 
with  a  view  to  ascertaining  whether  Kit  was  partic 
ular  about  his  food. 

"  Are  you  partic'lar  about  your  vittles  ?  "  he  asked 
abruptly. 

"  I  have  been  accustomed  to  good  food/7  answered 
Kit. 

"  You  can't  expect  to  live  as  you  have  at  your 
uncle's/'  continued  the  blacksmith.  "  Me  and  my 
wife  have  enough  to  eat,  but  we  think  it  best  to  eat 
plain  food.  Some  of  my  help  have  had  stuck  up 
notions,  and  expected  first  class  hotel  fare,  but  they 
didn't  get  it  at  my  house." 

"  I  believe  you,"  said  Kit. 

Mr.  Bickford  eyed  him  sharply,  not  being  sure  but 
this  might  be  a  sarcastic  observation,  but  Kit's  face 
was  straight,  and  betrayed  nothing. 

"  You'll  live  as  well  as  I  do  myself,"  he  proceeded, 
after  a  pause.  "I  don't  pamper  my  appetite  by  no 


KIT'S   RIDE   TO   OAKFORD.  41 

Kit  was  quite  ready  to  believe  this  also,  but  did 
not  say  so. 

"  What  time  did  you  get  up  at  your  uncle's  ? " 
asked  the  blacksmith. 

"  We  have  breakfast  a  little  before  eight.  I  get  up 
in  time  for  breakfast." 

"You  do,,  hey?"  ejaculated  the  blacksmith,  scorn 
fully.  "  Wa'al,  I  declare !  You  must  be  tuckered  out 
gettin'  up  so  airly." 

"  0  no,  I  stand  it  very  well,  Mr.  Bickford,"  said 
Kit,  amused. 

"  Do  you  know  what  time  I  get  up  ?  "  asked  Mr. 
Bickford,  with  a  touch  of  indignation  in  his  tone. 

"  I  would  like  to  know,"  answered  Kit  meekly. 

"  Wa'al,  I  get  up  at  five  o'clock.  What  do  you  say 
to  that,  hey?" 

"  I  think  it  is  very  early." 

"  I  suppose  you  couldn't  get  up  so  early  as  that  ?  " 

"  I  might,  if  there  was  any  need  of  it." 

"  I  reckon  there  will  be  need  of  it  if  you're  goin' 
to  work  for  me." 

Kit  cleared  his  throat.  He  felt  that  the  time  had 
come  for  an  explanation. 

"  Mr.  Bickford,"  he  said,  "  I  owe  you  an  apology." 

"  What  ?  "  said  Bickford,  regarding  his  young  com 
panion  in  surprise. 

"  I  have  deceived  you." 

"  I  don't  know  what  you're  talkin'  about." 

"  I  don't  think  I  did  right  to  come  with  you  to 
day." 

"  I  can't  make  out  what  you're  talkin'  about.  Your 
uncle  has  engaged  to  let  you  work  for  me." 

"  But  I  haven't  engaged  to  work  for  you,  Mr.  Bick 
ford." 

"  Hey  ?  "  and  the  blacksmith  eyed  our;  hero  in  un 
disguised  amazement. 


42  THE   YOUNG   ACROBAT. 

"  I  may  as  well  say  that  I  don't  intend  to  work  for 


"  You  don't  mean  to  work  for  me  ?  "  repeated 
Bickford  slowly. 

"  Just  so.  I  have  no  intention  of  becoming  a 
blacksmith." 

"  Is  the  boy  crazy?  "  ejaculated  Aaron  Bickford. 

<e  No,  Mr.  Bickford  ;  I  have  full  command  of  my 
senses.  You  will  have  to  look  out  for  another  ap 
prentice." 

"  Then  why  did  you  agree  to  come  with  me  ?  " 

"  That  is  what  I  have  to  apologize  for.  I  wanted 
to  get  away  from  my  uncle's  house  quietly,  and  I 
thought  it  the  best  way  to  pretend  to  agree  to  his 
plan." 

Aaron  Bickford  was  not  a  sweet  tempered  man. 
He  had  a  pretty  strong  will  of  his  own,  and  was 
called,  not  without  reason,  obstinate.  He  began  to 
feel  angry. 

"  Well,  boy,  have  you  got  through  with  what  you 
had  to  say  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  believe  so  —  for  the  present." 

"  Then  I  guess  it's  about  time  for  me  to  say  some 
thing." 

"  Very  well,  sir." 

"  You'll  find  me  a  tough  customer  to  deal  with, 
young  man." 

"  Then  perhaps  it  is  just  as  well  that  I  do  not  pro 
pose  to  work  for  you." 

"  But  you  are  goin'  to  work  for  me  !  "  said  the 
blacksmith,  nodding  his  head. 

"  Whether  I  want  to  or  not  ?  "  interrogated  Kit, 
placidly. 

"  Yes,  whether  you  want  to  or  not,  willy  nilly,  as 
the  lawyers  gay," 


KIT'S   RIDE  TO   OAXFORD.  43 

"  I  think,  Mr.  Bickford,  you  will  find  that  it  takes 
two  to  make  a  bargain." 

"  So  it  does.,  and  there's  two  that's  made  this  bar 
gain,  your  uncle  and  me." 

Mr.  Bickford  was  not  always  strictly  grammatical 
in  his  language,  as  the  reader  will  observe. 

e"  I  don't  admit  my  uncle's  right  to  make  arrange 
ments  for  me  without  my  consent." 

"  You  know  more'n  he  does,  I  reckon?." 

"  No,  but  this  matter  concerns  me  more  than  it 
does  him." 

"  Maybe  you  expect  to  live  without  workin' !  " 

"  Xo ;  if  it  is  true,  as  my  uncle  says,  that  I  have  no 
money,  I  shall  have  to  make  my  living,  but  I  prefer 
to  choose  my  own  way  of  doing  it." 

"  You're  a  queer  boy.  Bein'  a  blacksmith  is  too 
much  work  for  you,  I  reckon." 

"At  any  rate  it  isn't  the  kind  of  work  I  care  to 
undertake." 

"What's  all  this  rigmarole  comin'  to?  Here  we 
are  'most  at  my  house.  If  you  ain't  goin'  to  work 
for  me,  what  are  you  goin.'  to  do  ?  " 

"  I  should  like  to  pass  the  night  at  your  house, 
Mr.  Bickford.  After  breakfast  I  will  pay  you  for 
your  accommodations,  and  go " 

"Where?" 

"  You  must  excuse  my  telling  you  that.  I  have 
formed  some  plans,  but  I  do  not  care  to  have  my 
uncle  know  them." 

"  Are  you  going  to  work  for  anybody  ?  "  asked  the 
blacksmith,  whose  curiosity  was  aroused. 

"  Yes,  I  have  a  place  secured." 

"  Is  it  on  a  farm  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  You're  mighty  mysterious,  it  seems  to  me.  Now 
you've  had  your  say,  I've  got  something  to  tell  you." 


44  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  Very  well,  Mr.  Bickf ord." 

"  You  say  you're  not  goin'  to  work  for  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Then  I  say  you  are  goin'  to  work  for  me.  I've 
•ot  your  uncle's  authority  to  set  you  to  work,  and 
'm  goin'  to  do  it/' 

Kit  heard  this  calmly. 

"  Suppose  we  postpone  the  discussion  of  the  mat 
ter,"  he  said.  "  Is  that  your  house  ?  " 

Aaron  Bickf  ord's  answer  was  to  drive  into  the 
yard  of  a  cottage.  On  the  side  opposite  was  a 
blacksmith's  forge. 

"  That's  where  you're  goin'  to  work ! "  he  said$ 
grimly,  pointing  to  the  forge. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

KIT   MAKES    A    NEW    ACQUAINTANCE. 

GRAFTON,  where  Barlow's  circus  was  billed  to  ap 
pear  on  Saturday,  was  only  six  miles  farther  on. 
Oakford  was  about  half  way,  so  that  in  accompanying 
the  blacksmith  to  his  home,  Kit  had  accomplished 
about  half  the  necessary  journey.  Now  that  he  had 
undeceived  the  blacksmith  as  to  his  intention  of 
staying  he  felt  at  ease  in  |iis  mind.  It  was  his  plan 
to  remain  over  night  in  the  house  and  pursue  his 
journey  early  the  next  day. 

"  Are  these  all  the  clo'es  you  brought  with  you  ?  " 
asked  Bickf  ord,  surveying  Kit's  neat  and  rather  ex 
pensive  suit  with  disapproval. 

"  Yes.  Am  I  not  well  enough  dressed  for  a  black- 
sjftith  ?  "  asked  Kit,  with  a  srnile. 


KIT  MAKES  A  NEW  ACQUAINTANCE.        45 

"  You're  a  plaguy  sight  too  well  dressed,"  returned 
Bickford.  "  You  want  a  good  rough  suit,  for  the 
forge  is  a  dirty  place." 

"  I  thought  I  told  you  I  did  not  intend  to  work 
for  you,  Mr.  Bickford." 

"  That's  what  you  said,  but  I  don't  take  no  stock 
in  it.  Your  uncle  has  bound  jou  out  to  me,  and  that 
settles  it." 

"If  he  has  bound  me  out,  where  are  the  papers, 
Mr.  Bickford  ?  "  asked  Kit,  keenly. 

This  question  was  a  poser.  The  blacksmith  sup 
posed  that  Kit  might  be  ignorant  that  papers  were 
required,  but  he  found  himself  mistaken. 

u  There  ain't  no  papers,  but  that  don't  make  no 
difference,"  he  said.  "  He  says  you're  to  work  for 
me?  and  I'm  goin'  to  hold  you  to  it." 

Kit  did  not  repty,  for  he  saw  no  advantage  in  dis 
cussion. 

"You'll  get  a  dollar  a  week  and  your  board,  and 
you  can't  do  better.  I  reckon  dinner  is  about  ready 
now." 

Kit  felt  ready  for  the  dinner,  for  the  morning's 
ride  had  sharpened  his  appetite.  So  when,  five  min 
utes  later,  he  wag  summoned  to  the  table,  he  willingly 
accepted  the  invitation. 

"  This  is  my  new  'prentice,  Mrs.  Bickford,"  said 
the  blacksmith,  by  way  of  introduction,  to  a  spare,  red 
headed  woman,  who  was  bustling  about  the  kitchen, 
where  the  table  was  spread. 

Mrs.  Bickford  eyed  Kit  critically. 

"  He's  one  of  the  kid  glove  kind,  by  his  looks,"  she 
said.  "You  don't  expect  to  get  much  work  out  of 
him,  do  you  ?  " 

"  I  reckon  I  will,  or  know  the  reason  why/'  rt« 
sponded  Bickford,  significantly. 


46  THE  YOUNG  "ACROBAT. 

"  Set  right  down  and  I'll  dish  up  the  victuals/'  said 
Mrs.  Bickford.  "  We  don't  stand  on  no  ceremony 
here.  What's  your  name,  young  man?" 

"  People  call  me  Kit." ' 

"  Sounds  like  a  young  cat.  It's  rediculous  to  give 
a  boy  such  a  name.  First  thing  you  know  I'll  be 
calling  you  Kitty." 

"  I  hope  I  don't  look  like  a  cat,"  said  Kit  laugh 
ing. 

'-'  You  ain't  got  no  fur  on  your  cheeks  yet/'  said 
the  blacksmith,  laughing  heartily  at  his  own  wit 
ticism.  "  What  have  you  got  for  dinner,  mother  ?  " 

et  It's  a  sort  of  picked-tip  dinner/'  answered  Mrs. 
Bickford.  "  There's  some  pork  and  beans  warmed 
up,  some  slapjacks  from  breakfast,  and  some  fried 
sassidges." 

"  Why,  that's  a  dinner  for  a  king,"  said  the  black 
smith,  rubbing  his  hands. 

He  took  his  seat,  and  put  on  a  plate  for  Kit  speci 
mens  of  the  delicacies  mentioned  above.  In  spite  of 
his  appetite  Kit  partook  sparingly,  supplementing  his 
meal  with  bread,  which,  being  from  the  baker's  shop, 
was  of  good  quality.  He  congratulated  himself  that 
he  was  not  to  board  permanently  at  Mr.  Bickford's 
table. 

When  dinner  was  over,  the  blacksmith  in  a  genial 
mood  said  to  Kit :  "  You  needn't  begin  to  work  till 
to-morrow.  You  can  tramp  round  the  village  if  you 
want  to." 

Kit  was  glad  of  the  delay,  as  early  the  next  morn 
ing  he  expected  to  bid  farewell  to  Oakford,  and  thus 
would  avoid  a  conflict. 

He  had  been  in  Oakford  before,  and  knew  his  way 
about.  He  went  out  of  the  yard  and  walked  about 
in  a  leisurely  way.  It  was  early  in  June,  and  the 


KIT  MAKES  A  NEW  ACQUAINTANCE.        4? 

country  was  at  its  best.  The  birds  were  singing,  the 
fields  were  green  with  verdure,  and  Kit's  spirits 
rose.  He  felt  that  it  would  be  delightful  to  travel 
about  the  country,  as  he  would  do  if  he  joined  Bar 
low's  Circus. 

He  overtook  a  boy  somewhat  larger  than  himself, 
a  stout,  strong  country  boy,  attired  in  a  rough, 
coarse  working  suit.  He  was  about  to  pass  him, 
when  the  country  boy  called  out,  "  Hallo,  you !  " 

"  Were  you  speaking  to  me  ?  "  asked  Kit,  turning 
and  looking  back. 

"  Yes.  Didn't  I  see  you  riding  into  town  with 
Aaron  Bickf ord  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Are  you  going  to  work  for  him  ?  " 

"  That  is  what  he  expects/'  answered  Kit  diplo 
matically.  He  hesitated  about  confiding  his  plans  to 
a  stranger. 

"  Then  I  pity  you/' 

"Why?" 

"  I  used  to  work  for  him/' 

"Did  you?" 

"  Yes,  I  stood  it  as  long  as  I  could." 

"  Then  you  didn't  like  it  ?  " 

"  I  guess  not." 

"What  was  the  trouble?" 

"  Everything.  He's  a  stingy  old  hunks,  to  begin 
with.  I  went  to  work  for  a  dollar  a  week  and  board. 
If  the  board  had  been  decent,  it  would  have  been 
something,  but  I'd  as  soon  board  at  the  poorhouse." 

"  I  have  taken  dinner  there,"  said  Kit,  smiling. 

"Did  you  like  it?" 

"  I  have  dined  better.  In  fact  I  have  seldom  dined 
;worse." 

"  What  did  the  old  woman  give  you  ?  " 


48  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

Kit  enumerated  the  articles  composing  the  bill  of 
fare. 

"  That's  better  than  usual/'  said  the  new  acquaint 
ance. 

"  I  suppose  the  dollar  a  week  is  all  right,"  said 
Kit. 

"  Good  enough  if  you  can  get  it.  It's  about  as  easy 
to  get  blood  out  of  a  stone,  as  money  out  of  old 
Bickford.  Generally  I  had  to  wait  ten  days  after  the 
time  before  I  could  get  the  money/' 

"How  is  the  work?" 

"  Hard,  and  plenty  of  it.  It's  work  early  and  work 
late,  and  if  there  isn't  work  at  the  forge,  you've  got 
to  help  the  old  woman,  by  drawing  water  and  doing 
chores.  You  don't  live  in  Oakford,  do  you  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  came  from  Smyrna." 

"  I  thought  not.    Bickford  can't  get  a  boy  to  work 
for  him  here.    What  made  you  come?    Couldn't  you 
get  a  place  at  home  ?  " 
"  «  I  didn't  try." 

"  Well,  you  haven't  done  much  in  coming  here." 

"  I  begin  to  think  so,"  Kit  responded,  with  a 
smile. 

"  Hasn't  the  circus  been  in  your  town?" 

"  Yes." 

"  I  wanted  to  go,  but  I  guess  I'll  manage  to  see  it 
in  Graf  ton.  It  shows  there  to-morrow." 

"Are  you  going?"  asked  Kit  with  interest. 

"  Yes ;  I  shall  walk.  I'll  start  early  and  spend  the 
day  there." 

"  We  may  meet  there." 

"  You  don't  expect  to  go,  do  you  ?  Bickford  won't 
let  you  off." 

Kit  smiled. 

"  I  don't  think  Mr.  Bickford  will  have  much  to  say 
about  it,"  he  said. 


KIT  MAKES  A  NEW  ACQUAINTANCE.         40 

"Are  you  going  to  hook  jack?  "  asked  his  new  ac 
quaintance. 

"I  didn't  mean  to  tell  you,  but  I  will.  I  have 
made  up  my  mind  not  to  work  for  Mr.  Bickford  at 
all." 

"  Then  why  did  you  come  here  ?  " 

"  Because  my  uncle  saw  fit  to  arrange  with  him." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do,  then  ?  " 

"  I  am  offered  work  with  the  circus." 

"  You  are ! "  exclaimed  the  country  boy,  opening 
wide  his  eyes  in  astonishment.  "  What  are  you  going 
to  do?" 

"  I'm  going  to  be  an  acrobat." 

"What's  that?" 

Kit  explained  as  well  as  he  could. 

"What  are  they  going  to  pay  you?" 

"  Ten  dollars  a  week  and  my  expenses/'  answered 
Kit,  proudly. 

"  Jehu !  "  ejaculated  the  other  boy.  "  Why,  that's 
good  wages  for  a  man.  Po  you  think  they'd  hire 
me,  too?" 

"  If  you  think  you  can  do  what  they  require,  you 
can  ask  them." 

"  Why  can't  I  do  it  as  well  as  you  ?  " 

e<  Because  I  have  been  practicing  for  a  long  time 
at  a  gymnasium.  What  is  your  name?  " 

"  Bill  Morris." 

"  Then,  Bill,  don't  say  a  word  to  any  one  about 
my  plans.  Suppose  we  go  to  Graf  ton  together  ? f> 

"  All  right  I  " 

Before  the  boys  parted  they  made  an  agreement 
to  meet  at  five  o'clock  the  next  morning,  to  set  out  on 
their  walk  to  Grafton. 


J6  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 


CHAPTER  X. 


AT  nine  o'clock  the  blacksmith,  giving  a  deep 
yawn,  said  :  "  You'd  better  be  getting  to  bed,  young 
feller.  You'll  have  to  be  up  bright  and  airly  in  the 
morning." 

Kit  was  already  feeling  sleepy,  and  made  no  ob 
jection.  Though  it  was  yet  early,  he  had  found  it 
hard  work  to  get  through  the  evening,  as  he  could 
find  nothing  to  read  except  a  weekly  paper,  three 
months  old,  and  a  copy  of  "  Pilgrim's  Progress."  In 
truth,  neither  Mr.  Bickford  nor  his  wife  were  of  a 
literary  turn,  and  did  not  even  manage  to  keep  up 
with  the  news  of  the  day. 

"  I  am  ready,"  said  Kit. 

"  Mother,  show  him  to  his  room,"  added  the  black 
smith.  "  To-morrow  I'll  give  him  a  lesson  at  the 
forge." 

"  Perhaps  you  will,"  said  Kit  to  himself,  "  but  I 
think  it  doubtful." 

Kit's  room  was  a  small  back  one  on  the  second 
floor.  The  front  apartment  was  occupied  by  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Bickford,  and  there  was  one  of  the  same 
size  which  was  used  as  a  spare  chamber. 

Kit's  room  was  supplied  with  a  cot  bed,  and  was 
furnished  in  the  plainest  manner.  One  thing  he 
missed.  He  saw  no  washstand. 

"  Where  am  I  to  wash  in  the  morning  ?  "  he  asked. 

"You  can  wash  in  the  tin  basin  in  the  kitchen/' 


KIT'S   FIRST  NIGHT  AT   THE   BLACKSMITH'S.     5,1 

answered  Mrs.  Bickford.  :<  There's  a  bar  of  soap 
down  there  and  a  roller  towel,,  so  I  guess  you  won't 
have  to  go  dirty." 

Kit  shuddered  at  the  suggestion.  He  had  seen 
bars  of  yellow  soap  in  the  grocery  at  home,  and 
didn't  think  he  should  enjoy  its  use.  Nor  did  he 
fancy  using  the  same  towel  with  the  blacksmith  and 
his  wife.  He  had  seen  the  roller  towel  hanging 
beside  the  sink,  and  judged  from  its  appearance  that 
it  had  already  been  used  nearly  a  week. 

"  I  have  been  accustomed  to  wash  in  my  own 
room/'  he  ventured  to  say. 

"  You've  been  used  to  a  great  many  things  that 
you  won't  find  here/'  replied  Mrs.  Bickf  ord,  grimly. 

Kit  thought  it  extremely  likely. 

"  If  you  can't  do  as  the  rest  of  us  do,  you  can  get 
along  without  washing/'  continued  the  lady. 

"  I  will  try  and  manage/'  answered  Kit,  bearing  in 
mind  that  he  expected  to  leave  the  Bickford  mansion 
forever  the  next  morning. 

"  That  new  boy  of  yours  is  kind  of  uppish/1  re 
marked  Mrs.  Bickford,  when  she  returned  to  the  sit 
ting  room. 

"  What's  the  matter  now  ?  " 

"  He  wants  to  wash  in  his  own  room.  He's  too 
fine  a  gentleman  to  wash  in  the  kitchen." 

"What  did  you  tell  him?" 

Mrs.  Bickford  repeated  her  remark. 

"  Good  for  you,  mother !  We'll  take  down  his 
pride  a  little." 

"Is  he  goin'  to  work  in  them  fine  clo'es  he  brought 
with  him?" 

"  He  didn't  bring  any  others." 
. "  He'll  spile  'em,  and  not  have  anything  to  wear  to 
meetin'." 


52  THE   YOUNG   ACROBAT. 

"  Haven't  we  got  a  pair  of  overalls  in  the  house—- 
fene  that  the  last  boy  used  ?  " 

"Yes;  I'll  get  'em  right  away." 

"  They'll  be  good  for  him  to  wear." 

Before  Kit  got  into  bed,,  the  door  of  his  chamber 
was  unceremoniously  opened,  and  Mrs.  Bickford 
walked  in,  carrying  a  faded  pair  of  overalls. 

"  You  can  put  these  on  in  the  morning"  she  said. 
"  They'll  keep  your  clo'es  clean.  They  may  be  a  mite 
long  for  you,  but  you  can  turn  up  the  legs  at  the 
bottom." 

She  left  the  room  without  waiting  for  an  answer. 

Kit  surveyed  the  overalls  with  amusement. 

"  I  wonder  how  I  should  look  in  them,"  he  said  to 
himself. 

He  drew  them  over  his  trousers,  and  regarded  his 
figure  as  well  as  he  could  in  the  little  seven  by  nine 
glass  that  hung  on  the  wall. 

"  There  is  Kit,  the  young  blacksmith ! "  he  said 
with  a  smile.  "  On  the  whole,  I  don't  think  it  im 
proves  my  appearance.  I'll  take  them  off,  and  leave 
them  for  the  next  boy." 

"  What  did  the  boy  say,  mother?  "  asked  Mr.  Bick 
ford,  upon  his  wife's  return. 

"  He  just  took  'em ;  he  didn't  say  anything." 

"  I  s'pose  he's  never  worn  overalls  before,"  said 
the  blacksmith.  "What  do  you  think  he  told  me 
on  the  way  over  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know." 

"He  said  he  wasn't  goin'  to  work  for  me  at  all. 
He  didn't  like  the  blacksmith's  trade." 

"Well,  of  all  things!" 

"  I  just  told  him  he  hadn't  no  choice  in  the  mat 
ter,  that  me  and  his  uncle  had  arranged  matters, 
and  that  I  should  hold  him  to  the  contract." 


KIT'S  FIRST  NIGHT  AT  THE  BLACKSMITH'S.     53 

"I'm  afraid  he'll  be  dainty  about  his  vittles.  He 
didn't  eat  much  dinner." 

"  Wait  till  he  gets  to  work,  mother.  I  guess  he'll 
have  appetite  enough,,  I  mean  he  shall  earn  his 
board,  at  any  rate." 

"I  hope  we  won't  have  no  trouble  with  him, 
Aaron." 

"  You  needn't  be  afraid,  mother." 

"  Somehow,  Aaron,  you  never  did  manage  to  keep 
boys  very  long,"  said  Mrs.  Bickford,  dubiously. 

"Because  their  folks  were  weak,  and  allowed  'em 
to  have  their  own  way.  It'll  be  different  with  this 
boy." 

"  What  makes  you  think  so  ? r ' 

"Because  his  uncle  is  anxious  to  get  rid  of  him. 
He  told  me  the  boy,  till  lately,  had  imagined  he  was 
goin'  to  have  property.  He's  supported  him  out  of 
charity,  dressin'  him  like  a  gentleman,  sendin'  him 
to  school,  and  spendin'  a  pile  of  money  on  him.  Now 
he  thinks  it  about  time  to  quit,  and  have  the  boy 
learn  a  trade.  Of  course  the  boy'll  complain,  and 
try  to  beg  off,  but  it  won't  be  no  use.  Stephen  Wat 
son  won't  make  no  account  of  what  he  says.  He 
keeps  a  horse  himself,  and  has  promised  to  have  him 
shod  at  my  shop." 

"  Well,  it  may  be  for  the  best ;  I  hope  so." 

Aaron  Bickford  felt  a  good  deal  of  confidence  in 
himself.  He  understood  very  well  that  Kit  was 
averse  to  working  in  his  shop,  but  he  meant  to  make 
him  do  it. 

"  I'd  like  to  see  the  boy  I  can't  master,"  he  said  to 
himself,  complacently.  "  Years  hence,  when  the  boy 
has  a  forge  of  his  own,  he'll  thank  me  for  perseverin' 
with  him.  There's  money  to  be  made  in  the  busi 
ness.  Why,  when  I  began  I  wasn't  worth  a  hundred 


54  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

dollars,  and  I  owed  for  my  anvil.  Now  I  own  this 
house  and  shop,  and  I've  got  a  tidy  sum  in  the  bank." 

This  was  true.  But  it  must  be  added  that  the  re 
sult  was  largely  due  to  the  pinching  economy  which 
both  he  and  his  wife  had  practiced. 

When  Mr.  Bickford  woke  up  the  next  morning  it 
was  half-past  five  o'clock. 

"  Strange  how  I  came  to  oversleep,"  he  said.  "  I 
guess  I  must  have  been  more  tuckered  out  than  I 
supposed.  Well,  the  boy's  had  a  longer  nap  than  I 
meant  he  should.  However,  it's  only  for  one  morninY' 

Mr.  Bickford  did  not  linger  over  his  toilet.  Five 
minutes  was  rather  an  overstatement  of  the  time. 

He  went  to  Kit's  chamber,  and,  opening  the  door, 
•went  in  as  unceremoniously  as  his  wife  had  done  the 
night  before. 

A  surprise  awaited  him. 

There  was  no  one  in  the  bed. 

"  What !  has  the  boy  got  up  a' ready  ?  "  he  asked 
himself,  in  a  bewildered  way.  "  He's  better  at  get- 
in'  up  than  I  expected." 

Looking  about  him,  he  discovered  on  a  chair  by 
the  bedside  the  overalls,  and  upon  them  a  note  and  a 
silver  dollar. 

"  What's  all  that  mean?  "  he  asked  himself. 

Looking  closer  he  saw  that  the  note  was  directed  to 
him.  Beginning  to  suspect  that  something  was 
wrong,  he  opened  it. 

This  was  what  the  note  contained : 

MB.  BICKFORD — I  leave  you  a  dollar  to  pay  for  my  food 
and  lodging.  I  do  not  care  to  become  a  blacksmith. 
Good  by.  KIT  WATSON. 

"  I'll  have  him  back !  "  exclaimed  Aaron  Bickford, 
an  angry  look  appearing  on  his  face.  "  He  ain't 
goin'  to  get  the  best  of  me." 


IN  THE  HANDS  OF  THE  ENEMY.      55 

Mr.  Bickford  harnessed  up  his  horse,  and  started 
after  the  fugitive.  But  in  what  direction  should  he 
drive  t  He  was  not  long  at  fault.  He  met  a  milk 
man  who  had  seen  two  boys  starting  out  on  the  Graf- 
ton  load,  and  so  informed  him. 

"  I  guess  they're  bound  for  the  circus,"  he  said. 

"  Like  as  not,"  returned  the  blacksmith. 

But  he  had  a  long  chase  of  it.  It  was  not  until  he 
was  within  half  a  mile  of  the  circus  tents  that  he  de 
scried  the  two  boys,  trudging  along,  Kit  with  his 
valise  in  his  hand.  Hearing  the  sound  of  wheels, 
the  boys  looked  back,  and  in  some  dismay  recognized 
their  pursuer. 

The  blacksmith  stood  up  in  his  wagon,  and  point 
ing  his  long  whip  at  Kit,  cried  out,  "  Stop  where  you 
are,  Kit  Watson,  or  I'll  give  you  the  worst  thrashing 
you  ever  had !  " 


CHAPTER  XL 

KIT  FALLS  INTO  THE  HANDS  OF  THE  ENEMY. 

IF  Aaron  Bickford  expected  to  frighten  Kit  by  his 
threat,  he  was  destined  to  find  himself  badly  mis 
taken. 

Kit  was  startled  at  first,  not  having  anticipated 
that  the  blacksmith  would  get  upon  his  track  so  soon. 
But  he  was  a  boy  of  spirit,  and  had  no  thought  of 
surrender.  Mr.  Bickford  halted  his  horse,  and  Kit 
faced  him. 

"Didn't  you  find  my  note?"  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  I  did." 

"  Then  you  know  that  I  don't  care  to  work  for 
you." 


56  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  What's  that  got  to  do  with  it  ?  Your  uncle  and 
me  have  settled  that  you  shall." 

"  Then  you'll  have  to  unsettle  it.  I  have  a  right 
to  choose  my  own  occupation,  and  I  don't  intend  to 
become  a  blacksmith.  Even  if  I  did,  I  should  choose 
some  one  else  as  my  teacher." 

"  None  of  your  impudence,  young  man !  You'll 
have  a  long  account  to  settle  with  me,  I  warn  you  of 
that." 

<e  I  had  but  one  account  to  settle — for  my  board 
and  lodging — and  I've  attended  to  that.  Good 
morning,  Mr.  Bickford." 

Kit  turned  and  began  to  continue  his  journey. 

"Hallo!  Stop,  I  tell  you!"  shouted  the  black 
smith. 

"Have  you  got  any  more  to  say?  If  so,  I'll 
listen." 

"  What  more  I  have  to  say,  I  shall  say  with  a  horse 
whip  ! "  retorted  Bickford,  grimly,  preparing  to  de 
scend  from  his  wagon. 

66  Come,  William,  we  must  run  for  it,"  said  Kit. 
"  Are  you  good  at  running  ?  " 

"  Try  me !  "  was  the  laconic  reply. 

By  the  time  Aaron  Bickford  was  out  of  his  wagon, 
the  boys  had  increased  the  distance  between  them  by 
several  rods. 

"  Oho,  so  that's  your  game,  is  it  ?  "  said  the  black 
smith.  "  If  I  don't  overhaul  them,  my  name  isn't 
Aaron  Bickford." 

Kit  was  a  good  runner — quite  as  good  as  his  pur 
suer — but  he  had  one  serious  disadvantage.  His 
valise  was  heavy,  and  materially  affected  his  speed. 
He  had  carried  it  several  miles,  and  though  he  had 
shifted  it  from  one  hand  to  the  other,  both  arms  were 
now  tired. 


IN  THE  HANDS  OF  THE  ENEMY.     57 

"Let  me  take  it,  Kit,"  said  his  companion,  whoi 
,was  now  on  intimate  terms  with  him. 

"  It'll  be  just  as  heavy  for  you  as  for  me." 

"  Never  mind !     He  isn't  after  me." 

"Well,  if  you  don't  mind  carrying  it  a  little 
while." 

The  advantage  of  the  change  was  soon  apparent. 
Kit  increased  his  speed,  and  William,  whose  arms 
were  not  tired,  was  not  materially  retarded  by  his 
burden. 

"  If  I  had  no  valise  I  would  climb  a  tree,"  said  Kit, 
while  running.  "  I  don't  believe  Mr.  Bickf ord  is  good 
at  climbing." 

"  We  haven't  got  far  to  go  to  reach  the  circus 
tents/'  returned  William. 

But  though  the  boys  held  out  well,  Aaron  Bickford 
gradually  gained  upon  them  'Many  years  at  the 
anvil  had  given  him  plenty  of  wind  and  endurance. 
Besides,  he  was  entirely  fresh,  not  having  taken  a 
long  walk  already,  as  the  boys  had  done. 

"  You'd  better  give  up !  "  he  cried  out,  in  the  tone 
of  one  who  was  sure  of  victory.  "  It  takes  more  than 
a  boy  like  you  to  get  the  best  of  Aaron  Bickford." 

It  did  indeed  seem  as  if  the  boys  must  surrender. 
Within  a  few  rods  Bickford  would  be  even  with  them. 

Kit  came  to  a  sudden  determination. 

"  Jump  over  the  fence  !  "  he  cried. 

There  was  a  rail  fence  skirting  one  side  of  the  road. 

No  sooner  said  than  done.  Both  boys  clambered 
over  the  fence,  and  with  that  barrier  between  them 
faced  the  angry  blacksmith. 

"  Well,  I've  got  you !  "  he  cried,  panting. 

"  Have  you  ?     I  don't  see  it,"  answered  Kit. 

"  You  might  as  well  give  up  fust  as  last." 

"  Suppose  we  discuss  matters  a  little,  Mr.  Bick« 


58  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

ford/'  said  Kit,  calmly.  "What  right  have  you  to 
pursue  me  ?  " 

"  What  right  ?  Your  uncle's  given  me  the  charge 
of  you." 

"  That  is  something  he  had  no  right  to  do." 

"  Why  not  ?     Ain't  he  }rour  guardian  ?  " 

"  No." 

" Who  is,  then?" 

a  I  have  no  guardian  but  myself." 

"  That's  a  likely  story.  I  can't  listen  to  no  such 
foolish  talk." 

Aaron  Bickford  felt  that  it  was  time  to  move  upon 
the  enemy's  entrenchments,  and,  putting  one  leg  on 
the  lower  rail,  he  proceeded  to  climb  over  the  fence. 

But  the  boys  had  anticipated  this  move,  and  were 
prepared  for  it.  By  the  time  the  blacksmith  was  in 
side  the  field,  the  boys,  who  were  considerably  lighter 
and  more  active,  had  crossed  to  the  reverse  side. 

"  Here  we  are  again,  Mr.  Bickford,"  said  William 
Morris. 

The  blacksmith  frowned. 

"Don't  you  be  impudent,  Bill  Morris,"  he  said. 
<e  I  haven't  anything  to  do  with  you,  but  I  sha'n't  let' 
you  sass  me." 

"What  have  I  said  that's  out  of  the  way?"  asked 
William. 

"  Oh,  you're  mighty  innocent,  you  are !  You're 
aidin'  and  abettin'  Kit  Watson  to  escape  from  me, 
his  lawful  master." 

"  I  have  no  master,  Mr.  Bickford,"  said  Kit,  proud- 

iy. 

"  Well,  that's  what  they  used  to  call  'em  when  I  was 
a  boy.  Boys  weren't  so  pert  and  impudent  in  them 
days. 

Meanwhile  the  blacksmith  was  repressing  the  fence, 


IN  THE  HANDS  OF  THE  ENEMY.      59 

Kit  and  William  took  the  opportunity  to  run,  and 
by  the  time  Mr.  Bickford  was  again  on  the  roadside 
they  were  several  rods  away. 

This  naturally  exasperated  the  blacksmith,  who 
felt  mortified  at  his  failure  to  overtake  the  youngsters. 
A  new  idea  occurred  to  him. 

"You,  Bill,  do  you  want  to  earn  a  dime?"  he 
asked. 

"  How  ?  "  inquired  William. 

"Just  help  me  catch  that  boy  Kit,  and  I'll  give 
you  ten  cents/' 

"  I  don't  care  to  earn  money  that  way,  Mr.  Bick 
ford,"  responded  William,  scornfully. 

"  Good  for  you,  Willliam !  "  exclaimed  Kit. 

"  You  won't  earn  ten  cents  any  easier,"  persisted 
Bickford. 

"  I  wouldn't  do  such  a  mean  thing  for  a  dollar,  nor 
five  dollars,"  replied  William.  "Kit's  a  friend  of 
mine,  and  I'm  going  to  stand  by  him." 

The  blacksmith  was  made  angry  by  this  persistent 
refusal.  Then  again  he  was  faint  and  uncomfortable 
from  having  missed  his  breakfast,  which  seemed 
likely  to  be  indefinitely  postponed. 

"  I'll  lick  you,  Bill  Morris,  as  well  as  Kit,  when  I 
catch  you,"  he  said. 

"  Probably  you  will — when  you  catch  me !  "  re 
torted  William,  in  an  aggravating  tone.  "  Kun  faster, 
Kit." 

The  boys  ran,  but  again  they  were  impeded  by  the 
heavy  valise,  and  slowly  but  surely  the  blacksmith 
was  gaining  upon  them. 

Kit,  who  was  again  carrying  the  burden,  began  to 
show  signs  of  distress,  and  dropped  behind  his  com 
panion. 

"  I  can't  hold  out  much  longer,  Bill,"  he  said,  puff 
ing  laboriously. 


CO  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

Aaron  Bickford  heard  these  words,  and  they  im« 
pelled  him  to  extra  exertion.  At  last  he  caught  up 
and  grasped  Kit  by  the  collar. 

"  Fve  got  ye  at  last  I "  he  cried,  triumphantly. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

MR.  BICKFORD'S  DEFEAT. 

[AARON1  BICKFORD  was  a  strong  man.  By  his  work 
at  the  forge  he  had  strengthened  his  muscles  till 
they  were  like  iron.  So  was  Kit  a  strong  boy,  but  it 
would  be  absurd  to  represent  him  as  a  match  for  the 
sturdy  blacksmith. 

"  I've  got  ye  at  last ! "  repeated  Bickford  tighten 
ing  his  grasp  of  Kit's  coat  collar. 

"  Let  go  my  collar !  "  cried  Kit,  not  struggling,  for 
he  knew  that  it  would  be  useless. 

"I'll  let  go  your  collar  when  I've  got  ye  in  the 
wagon/'  answered  the  blacksmith,  "  and  not  till  then. 
You,  Bill,  bring  along  his  valise.  I'll  take  ye  home 
in  the  wagon,  though  it  would  be  only  right  if  I  let 
ye  walk." 

"Mr.  Bickford,"  said  Kit,  "you  have  no  right  to 
touch  me.  You  have  no  authority  over  me." 

"  I  ain't,  hey  ?  Well,  we'll  argy  that  matter  when 
we  get  home." 

And  he  commenced  dragging  Kit  in  the  direction 
of  the  wagon. 

It  certainly  seemed  as  if  Kit's  plans  were  destined, 
if  not  for  defeat,  to  postponement.  Unconditional 
surrender  was  his  only  choice  against  the  superior 
strength  of  Aaron  Bickford.  It  was  certainly  very 
vexatious. 


MR.   BICKFORD'S  DEFEAT.  6l 

But  help  was  nearer  than  he  anticipated. 

They  were  now  within  sight  of  the  circus  tents, 
and  Kit,  to  his  joy,  descried  the  giant,  Achilles  Hen 
derson,  taking  a  morning  walk,  and  already  within 
hearing  distance. 

"  Mr.  Henderson !  "  he  called  out,  eagerly. 

"  Who  is  that  you're  calling  ? "  asked  the  black 
smith  sharply. 

Achilles  heard,  and  instantly  recognized  the  boy 
who  had  talked  with  him  at  Smyrna. 

It  took  but  a  few  strides  to  bring  him  to  the  Bpot 
where  Kit  was  held  in  captivity. 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  This  man  is  dragging  me  away  without  author 
ity,"  answered  Kit. 

"  Who  is  he  ?  "  asked  the  giant. 

"  He  is  a  blacksmith,  and  claims  me  as  an  appren 
tice,  but  I  never  agreed  to  work  for  him/' 

"  That's  a  lie"  said  the  blacksmith,  " he's  my  run 
away  apprentice." 

"I  would  believe  the  boy  sooner  than  you,"  said 
Achilles,  not  favorably  impressed  by  the  blacksmith's 
bull  dog  look. 

"  It  doesn't  make  any  difference  what  you  believe," 
said  Bickford,  rudely;  and  he  began  to  pull  Kit  in 
the  direction  of  the  wagon. 

"  Let  go  that  boy's  collar,"  cried  Achilles,  sternly. 

"  I  won't !  "  retorted  the  blacksmith.  "  I  advise 
you  to  mind  your  own  business." 

Achilles  Henderson,  like  most  big  men,  was  good 
natured,  but  he  was  roused  by  the  other's  insolence. 
He  carried  war  into  the  enemy's  camp  by  seizing  the 
blacksmith  and  shaking  him  till  he  was  compelled  to 
release  his  grasp. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  this  outrage?"  demanded 
Bickford,  furiously. 


62  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"It's  only  a  gentle  hint/'  said  Achilles,  smiling. 
"  now,  my  friend,  I've  got  a  piece  of  advice  to  give 
you.  If  that  is  your  wagon  back  there  you'd  better 
get  into  it  as  soon  as  convenient — the  sooner  the  bet 
ter — and  get  out  of  my  way  or  I'll  give  you  a  stronger 
hint." 

The  blacksmith  was  too  indignant  to  be  prudent. 
What !  Confess  himself  vanquished,  and  go  home 
without  the  boy !  The  idea  was  intolerable  to  him. 

"  I'm  goin'  to  take  the  boy,"  he  said,  angrily,  and 
darting  forward  he  essayed  to  seize  Kit  by  the  collar 
again. 

"  Oho !  You  need  a  stronger  hint,"  said  Achilles. 
With  this  he  grasped  the  blacksmith  about  the  mid 
dle,  and  tossed  him  over  the  fence  into  the  adjoining 
field  as  easily  as  if  he  were  a  cat. 

Aaron  Bickford  did  not  know  what  had  happened 
to  him.  He  lay  motionless  for  a  few  seconds,  and 
then  picked  himself  up  with  some  difficult}^,  and  con 
fronted  the  giant  with  mingled  fear  and  anger. 

"  I'll  have  the  law  of  ye  for  this/'  he  shouted. 

Achilles  laughed. 

"  It's  as  you  like,"  he  said.  "  I've  got  my  witnesses 
here,"  pointing  to  the  two  boys. 

Mr.  Bickford  got  over  the  fence,  and  sullenly 
turned  in  the  direction  of  his  deserted  wagon. 

"  You'll  hear  from  me  again,  all  of  you !  "  he 
shouted,  shaking  his  fist. 

"  Don't  trouble  yourself  to  write,"  said  the  giant, 
jocosely.  "  We  can  worry  along  without  a  letter." 

The  blacksmith  was  too  full  of  wrath  for  utterance. 
He  kept  on  his  way,  muttering  to  himself,  and  shak 
ing  his  fist  at  intervals. 

"Now  what's  all  this  about?"  asked  Achilles. 
"  What's  the  matter  with  our  amiable  friend  ?  " 


MR.  BICKFOfcD*S  DEFfeAT.  63 

Kit  explained. 

"  So  you  don't  want  to  be  a  blacksmith  ?  Where 
are  you  going,  if  I  may  inquire  ?  " 

"  I'm  going  to  join  the  circus/'  answered  Kit. 

"  In  what  capacity — as  a  lion  tamer  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  shouldn't  fancy  that  business.  I  am  to  be 
an  acrobat." 

"  An  acrobat !  But  are  you  qualified  ? "  asked 
Achilles,  somewhat  surprised. 

He  had  not  heard  of  Kit's  practice  with  the  Vin- 
centi  brothers  on  the  day  of  his  first  visit  to  the  cir 
cus. 

"  I  am  pretty  well  qualified  already/'  answered  Kit, 
"  I  saw  Mr.  Barlow  yesterday  morning,  and  he  prom 
ised  me  an  engagement  at  ten  dollars  a  week." 

"  Good !  "  said  Achilles,  heartily.  "  I  am  pleased 
to  hear  it.  I  took  a  liking  to  you  the  other  day, 
and  I'm  glad  you're  going  to  join  us.  But  do  you 
think  it  wise  to  choose  such  a  life  ?  " 

"  You  have  chosen  it/'  said  Kit. 

"  Yes ;  but  what  could  I  do — a  man  of  my  size  ?  I 
must  earn  more  than  a  common  man.  My  board  and 
clothes  both  cost  more.  What  do  you  think  I  paid 
for  this  suit  I  have  on  ?  " 

"  I  couldn't  tell,  sir." 

"  Sixty  dollars.  The  tailor  only  charges  thirty 
dollars  to  a  man  of  ordinary  size,  but  I  am  so  ab 
surdly  large  that  I  have  to  pay  double  price." 

"  Why  don't  you  buy  your  suits  ready  made  ? " 
asked  Kit,  smiling. 

Achilles  laughed  heartily  at  the  idea. 

"  Show  me  a  place  where  I  can  get  ready  made 
clothes  to  fit  me,"  he  answered,  "  and  I  will  gladlj 
accept  your  suggestion." 

"  That  may  be  a  little  difficult,  I  admit" 


64  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"Why,  you  have  no  idea  how  inconvenient  I  find 
it  to  be  BO  large.  I  can't  find  a  bed  to  suit  me  in  any 
hotel.  If  I  go  to  the  theater  I  can't  crowd  myself 
into  an  ordinary  seat.  I  have  to  have  all  kinds  of 
clothing,  inside  and  outside,  made  to  order.  My 
hats  and  shoes  must  also  be  made  expressly  for  me/1 

"  I  suppose  you  get  very  well  paid/'  suggested  Kit. 

"  Seventy-five  dollars  a  week  sounds  pretty  large, 
and  would  be  if  my  expenses  were  not  so  great.  You 
wouldn't  be  a  giant  for  that  money,  would  you  ?  " 

"I  am  not  so  ambitious,"  replied  Kit,  smiling. 
"But  there  was  a  moment  when  I  wished  myself  of 
your  size." 

"When  was  that?" 

"  When  the  blacksmith  grasped  me  by  the  collar." 

"  You  don't  have  to  work  very  hard,"  said  William 
Morris. 

"  My  boy,  it  is  pretty  hard  work  to  be  stared  at  by 
a  crowd  of  people.  I  get  tired  of  it  often,  but  I  see 
no  other  way  of  making  a  living." 

"  You  would  make  a  pretty  good  blacksmith." 

"I  couldn't  earn  more  than  a  man  of  average 
strength,  and  that  wouldn't  be  enough,  as  I  have  ex 
plained." 

"  Were  your  parents  very  tall  ?  "  asked  Kit. 

"  My  father  was  six  feet  in  height,  but  my  mother? 
was  a  small  woman.  I  don't  know  what  put  it  into 
me  to  grow  so  big.  But  here  we  are  at  the  lot.  Will 
you  come  in  ?  " 

"When  can  I  see  Mr.  Barlow?"  asked  Kit,  anx 
iously. 

"He  is  at  the  hotel.  He  won't  be  round  till  half- 
past  nine.  Have  you  two  boys  had  breakfast  ?  " 

"  No/'  answered  Kit ;  "  I'm  nearly  famished." 

"Come  round  to  the  circus  tent.    You  are  to  be 


BREAKFAST   IN   THE   CIRCUS  TENT.  6$ 

one  of  us,  and  will  board  there.     I  guess  we  can  pro 
vide  for  your  friend,  too." 

Never  was  invitation  more  gladly  accepted.  Both 
Kit  and  William  felt  as  if  they  had  not  broken  their 
fast  for  a  week. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

BREAKFAST   IN   THE    CIRCUS   TENT. 

ACHILLES  entered  the  circus  inclosure — the  "  lot/' 
as  it  is  generally  called, — and  made  his  way  to  a 
smaft  tent  situated  not  far  from  the  one  devoted  to 
the  performances.  An  attendant  was  carrying  in  a 
plate  of  hot  steak  and  potatoes  from  the  cook  tent 
near  by. 

"  Is  breakfast  ready  ?  "  asked  Achilles. 

"  Yes ;  any  time  you  want  it." 

"  Is  anybody  inside  ?  " 

"  Only  Mademoiselle  Louise." 

"  Well,  I  want  three  breakfasts — for  myself  and  my 
two  young  friends  here." 

"  I  didn't  know  you  had  sons,"  said  Mike,  the  at 
tendant,  regarding  Kit  and  William  with  some  curi 
osity. 

"I  haven't.  One  of  these  young  men  is  an  acro 
bat,  who  will  be  one  of  us.  The  other  is  his  friend. 
Bring  along  the  grub  as  quick  as  possible — we  are  all 
hungry." 

"  All  right,  sir." 

Running  the  length  of  the  tent,  which  was  about 
twenty  feet  by  ten,  was  a  long  table  surrounded  by 
benches. 

The  giant  took  his  seat  and  placed  the  boys  one  on 


66  THfc  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

each  side  of  him.  Just  opposite  sat  a  woman  of 
twenty-five  or  thereabouts,  who  was  already  eating 
breakfast. 

"  Good  morning,  Mile.  Louise/'  said  the  giant. 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Henderson,"  responded  the 
lady.  "  Who  are  your  young  companions  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  their  names,  but  this  one,  placing 
his  hand  on  Kit's  shoulder,  "  has  been  engaged  by  Mr. 
Barlow  as  an  acrobat." 

"Indeed!     He  looks  young." 

"  I  am  sixteen,"  volunteered  Kit. 

"  What  circus  have  you  traveled  with  before  this 
season?"  asked  Mile.  Louise. 

"  I  have  never  traveled  with  any,  madam." 

"  But  you  are  an  acrobat  ?  " 

"  I  have  had  my  practice  in  a  gymnasium." 

"  How  came  Mr.  Barlow  to  engage  you  ?  " 

"  At  Smyrna  I  practiced  a  little  with  the  Yincenti 
brothers." 

"  At  Smyrna  ?  Why,  that's  where  the  lion  dashed 
into  the  arena !  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Do  you  know  the  boy  who  had  the  courage  to  face 
him?" 

Kit  blushed. 

"  I  am  the  boy,"  he  said. 

"  You  don't  mean  it ! "  exclaimed  the  lady,  viva 
ciously.  "  Why,  you're  a  hero.  I  must  shake  hands 
with  you,"  and  she  reached  across  the  table  and  gave 
Kit  a  hearty  grasp  of  the  hand. 

"  Is  that'so  ?  "  interposed  Achilles.  "  Why,  I  didn't 
know  you  were  the  boy.  I  was  not  present  at  the 
time,  and  only  heard  of  it  afterwards.  Mile.  Louise 
ie  right.  You  are  a  brave  fellow." 

"  I  am  much  obliged  to  you  both  for  your  favor- 


BREAKFAST   IN   THE   CIRCUS  TENT.          67 

able  opinion/'  said  Kit  modestly, "  but  I  didn't  realize 
my  danger  till  afterwards." 

"  Oh,  heavens !  I  can  see  him  now — that  wicked 
beast !  "  exclaimed  the  lady.  "  I  was  nearly  scared 
out  of  my  senses.  As  for  poor  Dupont,  he  was  nearer 
death  than  I  ever  want  to  be  till  my  time  comes." 

"  Was  Dupont  the  clown  ?  "  asked  Kit. 

"  Yes.  The  lion  held  him  down,  with  his  foot  up 
on  the  poor  clown's  back,  and  but  for  your  brave  act 
he  would  have  torn  the  poor  fellow  to  pieces.  Mr. 
Henderson,  you  missed  the  most  thrilling  act  of  the 
evening." 

"  So  I  begin  to  think.  By  the  way,  boys,  I  ought 
to  have  introduced  this  lady.  She  is  the  famous 
aerial  artist,  whom  you  saw  the  other  evening  in  her 
wonderful  feat  supon  the  trapeze." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mile.  Louise,  complacently,  "  I  think 
I  have  a  pretty  good  act.  I  get  plenty  of  applause, 
eh,  Mr.  Henderson  ?  " 

"  That's  true.  I  think  I  should  leave  the  circus  if  I 
had  to  appear  in  your  act.  I  never  could  summon 
up  courage." 

The  lady  laughed. 

"  Monsieur  Achilles,"  she  said,  "  I  wouldn't  advise 
you  to  emulate  me.  I  don't  believe  you  could  find  a 
rope  strong  enough  to  support  you,  and  if  you  should 
fall,  I  pity  the  audience." 

"  You  have  convinced  me.  I  shall  give  up  all 
thoughts  of  it,"  said  the  giant,  with  mock  gravity. 
"  It  would  suit  better  our  young  friend  here,  who  is 
an  acrobat." 

"  Did  you  ever  practice  on  a  trapeze  ?  "  asked  Mile. 
Louise,  turning  to  Kit. 

"  Yes,  often,"  answered  Kit,  "  but  never  at  a  great 
height." 


68  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"Would  it  frighten  yon  to  find  yourself  so  high 
up  in  the  air  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  so ;  I  have  a  cool  head." 

"  You  must  practice.  I  will  give  you  a  few  hints 
myself.  If  you  are  cool  and  courageous,  as  I  judge 
you  will  soon  learn.  By  the  way,  what  is  your 
name?"  C«M««K 

"  Kit  Wfttees." 

"  It'll  be  something  else  when  you  begin  work." 

"  Do  all  performers  have  assumed  names  ?  " 

"  Generally.  Here  I  am  Mademoiselle  Louise  Le- 
froy,  but  it  isn't  a  bit  like  my  real  name." 

Before  this  the  boys  had  been  served  with  break 
fast.  The  steak  was  rather  tough,  and  the  coffee  not 
of  the  best  quality,  but  Kit  and  William  thoroughly 
enjoyed  it,  and  thought  it  about  the  best  breakfast 
they  had  ever  eaten.  Mile.  Louise  continued  to  con 
verse  with  them,  and  was  very  gracious. 

"  Are  you  too  an  acrobat  ?  "  she  asked  William. 

William  became  so  confused  that  he  swallowed 
some  coffee  the  wrong  way,  and  came  near  choking. 

"  No,  ma'am,"  he  answered  bashfully,  "  but  I'd  like 
to  go  round  with  the  show." 

"  You'll  be  better  off  at  home  if  you've  got  one," 
said  the  giant.  "  You  are  not  a  performer ;  you  are 
too  small  for  a  property  man,  ana  not  strong  enough 
for  a  razorback." 

"  What's  a  razorback  ?  "  asked  William,  in  amaze 
ment. 

Achilles  smiled. 

"  It's  a  boy  or  man  who  helps  load  and  unload  the 
circus  cars,"  he  answered.  "  It  is  heavy  work,  and 
you  would  be  thrown  among  a  low  lot  of  people — 
canvasmen,  and  such.  Our  young  friend  here,  on  the 
other  hand,  will  have  a  good  sleeping  berth,  eat  at 
the  first  table,  and  be.  well  provided  for  generally/5 


SOME  CIRCUS  PEOPLE.  69 

William  looked  disappointed.  He  had  never 
thought  particularly  about  traveling  with  a  circus 
till  now,  but  his  meeting  with  Kit  had  given  him  a 
circus  fever. 

At  ten  o'clock  Mr.  Barlow  came  to  the  grounds,  and 
Achilles  volunteered  to  go  with  Kit  to  speak  with  him 
his  engagement. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

SOME    CIRCUS    PEOPLE. 

MR.  BARLOW  recognized  Kit  instantly. 

"  So  you  have  kept  your  promise,  my  young  friend/' 
he  said.  "  Well,  have  you  come  to  join  us?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  if  your  offer  holds  good/' 

"  My  offers  always  hold  good;  I  never  go  back  on 
my  word." 

Kit  was  glad  to  hear  this,  for  he  would  have  been 
placed  in  an  embarrassing  position  if,  like  some  men, 
Mr.  Barlow  had  forgotten  an  offer  made  on  the  im 
pulse  of  the  moment. 

"Have  you  any  directions  to  give,  sir?" 

"  You  may  report  to  my  manager,  Mr.  Bryant. 
First,  however,  it  may  be  well  for  you  to  see  the  Vin- 
centi  brothers,  and  arrange  for  a  joint  act." 

"  When  do  you  wish  me  to  appear,  sir  ?  " 

"  Whenever  you  are  ready.  You  may  take  a  week 
to  rehearse,  if  necessary.  Your  pay  will  commence 
at  once." 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Barlow;  you  are  very  kind  and 
considerate." 

Mr.  Barlow  smiled,  and,  waving  his  hand,  passed 
on. 


70  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

He  was  very  popular  with  all  who  were  in  his  em 
ploy,  and  had  a  high  reputation  for  kindness  and 
strict  integrity. 

"  I'd  like  to  work  for  him,"  said  William  Morris, 
who  had  listened  to  the  conversation  between  Kit  and 
the  circus  proprietor. 

"  I  should  like  to  have  you  along  with  me/'  replied 
Kit,  "  but  from  what  Mr.  Henderson  says  there  is  no 
good  opening." 

It  was  not  till  eleven  o'clock  that  Kit  met  his  future 
partners,  the  Yincenti  brothers. 

"  Good !  "  said  Alonzo,  in  a  tone  of  satisfaction. 
"  We  must  get  up  a  joint  act.  I  suppose  you  haven't 
got  a  suit  of  tights  ?  " 

"  No.    I  never  expected  to  need  one." 

"  I  have  an  extra  one  which  I  think  will  fit  you. 
Though  I  am  ten  years  older  than  you  we  are  about 
the  same  size." 

Kit  had  occasion  to  remark  that  circus  performers 
are  short  as  a  rule.  Many  of  them  do  not  exceed 
five  feet  four  inches  in  height,  but  generally  they  are 
compactly  built,  with  veil  developed  muscles,  and 
possess  unusual  strength  and  agility. 

The  circus  suit  was  brought  out.  It  proved  to  be 
an  excellent  fit. 

William  Morris  eyed  Kit  with  admiration. 

"  You  look  like  a  regular  circus  chap,  Kit !  "  he  ex 
claimed.  "  I  wish  I  was  in  your  shoes." 

"Wait  till  you  see  whether  I  am  a  success,  Wil 
liam,"  replied  Kit. 

"  Now,  if  you  are  ready,  we  will  have  a  little  prac 
tice,"  said  Alonzo  Yincenti. 

"  May  I  look  on  ?  "  asked  William. 

"  Oh,  )^es ;  we  don't  generally  admit  spectatow, 
but  you  are  a  friend  of  the  boy." 


SOME  CIRCUS  PEOPLE.  ?I 

They  all  entered  the  tent,  and  for  an  hour  Kit 
was  kept  hard  at  work. 

In  the  act  devised  by  the  Vincenti  brothers,  he 
stood  on  the  shoulders  of  the  second,  who  in  his 
turn  stood  on  the  shoulders  of  the  first.  Various 
changes  were  gone  through,  in  all  of  which  Kit  proved 
himself  an  adept,  and  won  high  compliments  from 
his  new  associates. 

"  Can  you  tumble  ?  "  asked  Antonio. 

Kit  smiled. 

"  I  was  afraid  I  should  when  I  first  got  on  your 
shoulders,"  he  answered. 

"  That  was  what  I  meant, — something  like  this," 
and  he  whirled  across  the  arena,  rolling  over  and 
over  on  hands  and  feet  in  the  manner  of  a  cart 
wheel. 

Kit  imitated  Antonio  rather  slowly  and  awkwardly 
at  first,  but  rapidly  showed  improvement. 

"  You'll  soon  learn,"  said  Antonio.  "  Now  let  me 
show  you  something  else." 

This  something  else  was  a  succession  of  somer 
saults,  made  in  the  most  rapid  manner. 

Kit  tried  this  also,  slowly  at  first,  as  before,  but 
proving  a  rapid  learner. 

"  In  the  course  of  three  or  four  days  you  will  be 
able  to  do  it  in  public,"  said  Alonzo. 

"  When  do  you  advise  me  to  make  my  first  appear 
ance  ?  "  asked  Kit. 

"  To-night,  in  our  first  act." 

" But  shall  I  be  ready?" 

"  You'll  do.    We  may  as  well  make  a  beginning." 

"  I  wish  I  could  see  you,  Kit,"  said  William. 

"Can't  you?" 

"I  was  going  to  the  afternoon  performance.  It 
would  make  me  too  late  home  it  I  stayed  in  the  even- 


?2  THE   YOUtfG  ACROBAT. 

"  Won't  there  be  some  people  over  from  Oakford 
that  you  can  ride  back  with  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  think  of  that.  Yes,  John  Woods  told  me 
that  his  father  was  coming,  and  would  bring  him 
along.  I  could  ride  home  with  them." 

"  Good  !  then  you'd  better  stay." 

"  Perhaps  I'd  better  go  over  and  buy  a  ticket." 

But  to  William's  satisfaction  he  was  given  free  ad 
mission  as  a  friend  of  Kit.  Not  only  that,  but  he 
was  invited  to  take  dinner  and  supper  at  the  circus 
table.  In  fact,  he  was  treated  with  distinguished 
consideration. 

"  Kit,"  he  said,  "  I  was  in  luck  to  meet  you." 

"  And  it  was  lucky  for  me  that  I  met  you.  I 
shouldn't  like  to  have  met  Aaron  Bickford  single 
handed." 

"  I  wish  old  Bickford  would  come  to  the  circus  to 
night.  Wouldn't  he  be  surprised  to  see  you  perform 
ing  in  tights  ?  " 

"I  think  it  would  rather  take  him  by  surprise," 
said  Kit,  smiling. 

Kit  and  William  occupied  seats  at  the  afternoon 
performance  as  spectators,  it  having  been  arranged 
that  Kit's  debut  should  be  made  in  the  evening.  Our 
hero  regarded  the  different  acts  with  unusual  inter 
est,  and  his  heart  beat  a  little  quicker  when  he  heard 
the  applause  elicited  by  the  performances  of  the  Yin- 
centi  brothers,  for  he  had  already  begun  to  consider 
himself  one  of  them. 

When  the  performance  was  over,  and  the  audience 
was  dispersing,  Kit  felt  a  hand  laid  upon  his  shoul 
der. 

He  turned  and  his  glance  rested  upon  a  man  of 
about  forty,  with  a  grave,  serious  expression.  He 
was  puzzled,  for  it  was  not  a  face  that  he  remembered 
to  have  ever  seen  before. 


SOME    CIRCUS   PEOPLE.  73 

"  You  don't  know  me  ?  "  said  the  stranger. 

"  No,  sir." 

"  And  yet  you  have  done  me  a,  very  great  service." 

"  I  didn't  know  it,  sir." 

"  The  greatest  service  that  any  one  person  can  do 
to  another — you  have  saved  my  life/' 

Then  a  light  dawned  upon  Kit's  mind,  and  he  re 
membered  what  Achilles  Henderson  had  said  to  him 
in  the  morning. 

"Is  your  name  Dupont  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes ;  I  am  Joe  Dupont,  the  clown,  whom  yon 
saved  from  a  horrible  death.  I  tell  you,  when  Nero 
stood  there  in  the  ring  with  his  paw  on  my  breast  I 
gave  myself  up  for  lost.  I  expected  to  be  torn  to 
pieces.  It  was  an  awful  moment !  "  and  the  clown 
shuddered  at  the  picture  which  his  imagination  con 
jured  up.  "  Yes,  sir ;  I  wouldn't  see  such  another 
moment  for  all  the  money  Barlow  is  worth.  I  wonder 
my  hair  didn't  turn  white." 

"  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Dupont,  but  I  find  it  hard  to 
think  you  are  Joe  Dupont,  the  clown,"  said  Kit. 

"Why?" 

"  Because  you  look  so  grave  and  sedate." 

Joe  Dupont  smiled. 

"  I  only  make  a  fool  of  myself  in  the  ring,"  he 
said.  "  Outside  you  might  take  me  for  a  merchant 
or  minister.  Indeed,  I  am  a  minister's  son." 

"  You  a  minister's  son !  "  ejaculated  Kit. 

"  Yes ;  you  wouldn't  think  it,  would  you  ?  I  was 
rather  a  wild  lad,  as  minister's  sons  often  are.  My 
poor  father  tried  hard  to  give  me  an  education,  but 
my  mind  wasn't  on  books  or  school  exercises,  and  at 
sixteen  I  cut  and  run." 

"  Did  you  join  a  circus  then  ?  " 

"  Not  at  once.    I  tried  hard  to  earn  my  living  in 


74  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

different  ways.  Finally  I  struck  a  circus,  and  got  an 
engagement  as  a  razorback.  When  I  got  older  I  be 
gan  to  notice  and  imitate  the  clowns,  and  finally  J. 
made  up  my  mind  to  become  one  myself." 

"  Do  you  like  the  business  ?  " 

"  I  have  to  like  it.  No ;  I  am  disgusted  with  my- 
self  often  and  often.  You  can  judge  from  one  thing. 
I  have  a  little  daughter,  Katy,  now  eight  years  of  age. 
She  has  never  seen  me  in  the  ring  and  never  will.  I 
could  never  hold  up  my  head  in  her  presence  if  she 
had  once  seen  me  playing  the  fool  before  an  audi 
ence." 

All  this  surprised  Kit.  He  had  been  disposed  to 
think  that  what  clowns  were  before  the  public  they 
were  in  private  life  also.  Now  he  saw  his  mistake. 

"  You  contribute  to  the  public  amusement,  Mr. 
Dupont,"  said  Kit. 

"  True ;  but  what  sort  of  a  life  record  is  it  ?  Sup 
pose  in  after  years  Katy  is  asked,  'Who  was  your 
father?'  and  is  obliged  to  answer,  '  Joe  Dupont,  the 
clown/  But  I  ought  not  to  grumble.  But  for  you 
I  should  have  died  a  terrible  death,  and  Katy  would 
be  fatherless,  so  I  have  much  to  be  thankful  for  after 
all." 

Kit  listened  to  the  clown  not  without  surprise. 
He  could  hardly  realize  that  this  was  the  comical 
man  whose  grotesque  actions  and  sayings  had  con 
vulsed  the  spectators  only  an  hour  before.  When 
he  came  to  think  of  it,  he  felt  that  he  would  rather 
be  an  acrobat  than  a  clown. 


MR.   BICKFORD   GOES  TO   THE  CIRCUS.       75 


CHAPTER  XV. 

MR.    BICKFORD   GOES   TO    THE    CIRCUS. 

WHEN  Aaron  Bickford,  balked  of  his  prey,  was 
compelled  to  get  into  his  wagon  and  start  for  home,  he 
felt  uncommonly  cross.  To  begin  with,  he  was  half 
famished,  having  harnessed  up  and  set  out  on  what 
turned  out  to  be  a  wild  goose  chase  without  break 
ing  his  fast.  Yet  he  could  have  borne  this  with  com 
parative  equanimity  if  he  had  effected  the  purpose 
which  he  had  in  view — the  capture  of  his  expected 
apprentice. 

But  he  had  been  signally  defeated.  Indeed  he 
had  been  humiliated  in  presence  of  Kit  and  William 
Morris,  by  being  unceremoniously  picked  up  and 
tossed  over  the  fence.  As  William  was  an  Oakford 
boy,  he  foresaw  that  his  discomfiture  would  soon  be 
known  to  all  his  fellow  townsmen,  and  that  public 
ridicule  would  be  his  portion.  There  seemed  no  way 
to  avoid  this,  unless  by  begging  William  to  keep 
silent,  and  this  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  do, 
even  if  the  request  was  likely  to  be  granted. 

"  Where's  the  boy  ?  "  asked  his  wife,  as,  after  un 
harnessing  his  horse,  he  went  into  the  house. 

"  I  don't  know  where  he  is,"  answered  Bickford,  in 
a  surly  tone. 

"Didn't  you  find  him?" 

"  Yes,  I  found  him." 

"Wouldn't  he  come  back?" 

«  He  didn't." 


?  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  I'd  have  made  him  if  I  were  you." 

"  Perhaps  you  would,  and  then  perhaps  you 
wouldn't.  Perhaps  you  couldn't." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say,  Aaron  Bickford,  that  you 
let  a  whippersnapper  like  that  defy  you  ?  " 

"  What  could  I  do  against  a  man  eight  feet  high  ?  " 

"  Goodness,  Mr.  Bickford,  have  you  been  drink 
ing?  "  ejaculated  his  wife. 

"  No,  I  haven't  been  drinking." 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  boy  is  eight  feet 
high?" 

"  No,  I  don't  mean  to  tell  you  the  boy  is  eight  feet 
high.  But  I  won't  answer  any  more  foolish  ques 
tions  till  you  give  me  something  to  eat.  I  am  fairly 
faint  with  hunger." 

"  Sit  down,  then,  and  I  hope  after  you've  gratified 
your  appetite  you'll  be  a  little  less  mysterious." 

Mrs.  Bickford  was  privately  of  opinion  that  her 
husband  had  stopped  at  some  drinking  place — other 
wise  why  should  he  prate  of  men  eight  feet  tall  ? 

Aaron  Bickford  ate  almost  ravenously,  though  the 
food  set  before  him  was  not  calculated  to  gratify  the 
taste  of  an  epicure.  But  all  things  are  acceptable 
to  an  empty  stomach. 

When  he  seemed  to  be  satisfied,  his  wife  began 
anew. 

"  Who  is  it  that  is  eight  feet  high  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  The  giant  at  the  circus." 

"  What  did  you  have  to  do  with  him  ?  " 

"  Not  much,  but  he  had  something  to  do  with 
me,"  answered  Bickford,  grimly. 

"How  is  that?" 

"  I  overhauled  the  boy,  and  was  dragging  him 
back  to  the  wagon,  when  this  fellow  hove  in  sight. 
It  seems  he  knew  the  young  rascal,  and  took  hi3 


MR.   BICKFORD   GOES   TO   THE   CIRCUS.       77 

part.  He  seized  me  as  easily  as  you  would  take  up 
a  cat,  and  flung  me  over  the  fence." 

"  I  wish  I'd  been  there  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Bickford, 
angrily. 

"  What  could  you  have  done.  You  would  have 
been  flung  over  too/'  said  her  husband,,  contemptu 
ously. 

"  I  would  have  got  a  good  grip  of  his  hair,  and  I 
guess  that  would  have  made  him  let  go." 

"  You'd  have  to  stand  on  a  ladder,  then." 

"  So  the  boy  got  away  ?  " 

"  Of  course  he  did." 

"  And  where  did  he  go  ?  " 

"  I  expect  he  went  to  the  circus  along  with  William 
Morris." 

"  Was  that  boy  with  him  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  They  were  pretty  well  matched.  What  can  they 
do  at  the  circus  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  Perhaps  their  long-legged  friend 
will  give  them  a  ticket  to  the  show." 

<e  Aaron,  suppose  we  go  to  tjie  circus  ?  " 

"What  for?" 

"  You  may  get  hold  of  the  boy,  and  bring  him 
back.  The  giant  won't  be  with  him  all  the  time." 

"  I'd  like  to  get  the  boy  back,"  said  Bickford,  in  a 
wavering  tone.  "  I'd  give  him  a  lesson." 

"  And  so  would  I.  I  guess  boiv/een  us  we  could 
subdue  him.  But  of  course  he  must  be  got  back 
first." 

"  I'll  think  of  it,  Sarah.  " 

Later  in  the  day  Mr.  Bickford  told  his  wife  he 
would  go  to  the  circus,  but  he  tried  to  evade  taking 
her  in  order  to  save  the  expense  of  another  ticket. 
!To  this,  however,  she  would  not  agree.  The  upshot 


78  THE   YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

was,  that  after  supper  the  old  horse  was  harnessed 
up,  and  the  amiable  pair,  bent  on  vengeance,  started 
for  Grafton. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

MR.  BICKFORD  AT  THE  CIRCUS. 

MR.  BICKFORD'S  chief  object  in  going  to  the  circus 
was  to  regain  possession  of  Kit,  his  runaway  ap 
prentice,  as  he  chose  to  consider  him.  But,  besides 
this,  he  really  had  a  curiosity  to  see  the  show,  and 
thought  this  would  afford  him  a  good  excuse  for 
doing  so.  The  same  remark  will  apply  to  Mrs.  Bick- 
ford,  whose  curiosity  had  been  excited  the  year  pre 
vious  by  seeing  a  circus  procession.  The  blacksmith 
and  his  wife  were  not  prejudiced  against  amusements, 
like  many  others,  but  were  too  frugal  to  attend  them. 
Now  that  they  could  combine  business  with  pleasure, 
they  threw  to  the  winds  all  hesitation. 

"  Do  you  think  you'll  get  the  boy,  father  ?  "  asked 
Mrs.  Bickford,  as  they  jolted  over  the  road  to  Graf- 
ton. 

"  I'll  make  a  try  for  it,  Sarah.  He's  a  good  strong 
boy,  and  he'll  make  a  capital  blacksmith.  Did  you 
notice  his  broad  shoulders  ?  " 

"  He  looks  like  he'd  have  a  hearty  appetite,"  said 
the  careful  spouse. 

"  We  won't  pamper  him,  Sarah,"  replied  Bickford, 
smiling  grimly.  ee  He  won't  get  no  such  victuals  as 
he  did  at  home.  Plain  food  and  plenty  of  it,  that's 
the  way  to  bring  up  boys." 

"  Perhaps  he  won't  be  at  the  circus,"  suggested 
Mrs.  Bickford. 


MR.   felCKFOUD  AT  THE  CIRCUS.  ?9 

"  I'd  be  surprised  if  lie  wasn't.  Boys  have  a  nat 
ural  hankering  for  the  circus.  I  had  when  I  was  a 
boy." 

"  Did  you  ever  go,  Aaron  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  didn't  have  the  money." 

"  Do  you  know  how  much  they  charge  ?  " 

"  Fifty  cents,  I  believe." 

"  It's  an  awful  sight  of  money  to  pay  for  amuse 
ment.  If  it  lasts  two  hours,  that  makes  twenty-five 
cents  an  hour." 

"  So  it  does,  Sarah.  That's  as  much  as  I  can  earn 
by  hard  work  in  that  time." 

"  I  don't  know  as  ifs  right  to  fling  away  so  much 
money." 

"  I  wouldn't  do  it  if  it  wasn't  for  gettin'  the  boy 
back.  He'll  be  worth  a  good  deal  to  me  if  I  do.  He's 
a  good  deal  stronger  than  Bill  Morris." 

"  Of  course  that  makes  a  difference.  I  don't  care 
so  much  for  the  circus,  though  I  should  like  to  see 
the  man  stand  up  on  a  horse  and  jump  through 
hoops.  I  wonder  if  the  horse  jumps  through  too." 

"  I  don't  know,  but  we'll  soon  know  all  that  is  to 
be  known.  The  boy  won't  expect  to  see  us,  I  reckon/' 
concluded  the  blacksmith,  with  a  chuckle. 

At  length  they  reached  the  circus  grounds.  All 
was  bustle  and  excitement  in  the  neighborhood  of 
the  lot. 

"  I  declare,  Aaron,  it  looks  like  Fourth  of  July/' 
said  Mrs.  Bickford. 

"  So  it  does.    It  beats  all — what  a  crowd  there  is." 

They  bought  tickets  and  entered  the  inclosure. 

In  a  small  tent  near  the  entrance  were  the  curiosi 
ties.  They  were  about  to  walk  in  when  a  young  man 
curtly  asked  for  tickets. 

"  We  bought  tickets  at  the  gate.    Here  they  are/' 


8O  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  All  right ;  but  you  need  separate  tickets  here." 

"  I  declare  that's  a  swindle/'  said  Mrs.  Bickf  ord. 
"  I  thought  we  could  see  the  whole  show  on  these." 

"  We  only  charge  ten  cents  extra  for  this." 

"  It's  a  shame.    Shall  we  go  in,  Aaron  ?  " 

"  I  guess  we  will.  I  want  to  see  that  ?ere  fat 
woman." 

"  I'd  like  to  see  the  dwarf  and  the  woman  with 
hair  five  feet  long.  A  circus  is  dreadful  expensive, 
but  bein'  as  we're  here  we  might  as  well  see  the  whole 
thing." 

Twenty  cents  was  paid  at  the  door,  and  the  econo 
mical  pair,  grown  suddenly  so  extravagant,  walked 
in. 

The  first  object  on  which  the  blacksmith's  eyes 
rested  kindled  him  with  indignation,  and  recalled 
mortifying  memories.  It  was  Achilles  Henderson, 
the  giant,  who,  on  his  side  recognized  Aaron  Bick- 
ford. 

"  Good  evening,  my  friend,"  he  said,  with  a  smile. 
"  I  believe  we  have  met  before." 

"  Do  you  know  him  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Bickf  ord,  in 
surprise. 

Aaron's  brow  contracted  as  he  answered : 

"  It's  the  ruffian  that  threw  me  over  the  fence  this 
morning." 

"  I  see  you  remember  me,"  said  Achilles,  good- 
naturedly. 

"  I  ought  to  remember  you,"  retorted  the  black 
smith. 

"  Come,  don't  bear  malice.  It  was  only  a  little 
joke." 

"  I  don't  like  such  jokes." 

"  Well,  well ;  I'll  give  you  satisfaction.  I'll  let  you 
throw  me  over  the  fence  any  time  you  want  to,  and  I 
won't  make  a  particle  of  resistance." 


MR.   BICKFORD  AT   THE   CIRCUS.  8 1 

Somehow  this  proposal  did  not  strike  the  black 
smith  as  satisfactory.  He  asked  abruptly :  "  Where's 
the  boy?" 

"  There  were  two  boys." 

"  I  mean  the  stout,  broad-shouldered  boy." 

"  I  don't  know  just  where  he  is  at  present/' 

"  Do  you  know  why  I've  come  here  this  evening  ?  " 

"  To  see  the  show,  I  expect." 

"  I've  come  to  get  that  boy.  I've  no  doubt  he's 
somewhere  about  here." 

"  Oho !  "  thought  the  giant ;  "  I  must  put  my 
young  friend  on  his  guard." 

"  If  you'll  help  me  Fll  do  as  much  for  you  some 
time." 

"So  you  are  going  to  carry  him  back  with  you  ?  " 
went  on  Achilles,  desirous  of  learning  the  extent  of 
Kit's  danger. 

"  Yes,  I  am." 

"  You  say  he  is  your  apprentice  ?  " 

"  Of  course  he  is." 

"  And  you've  got  the  papers  to  show  for  it  ?  " 

"  I  don't  need  no  papers.  I've  got  his  uncle's  con 
sent." 

"  I  think,  my  friend,  you're  not  familiar  with  the 
law,"  thought  Achilles.  "  Kit  won't  go  with  you  to 
night." 

But  it  was  nearly  time  for  the  performance.  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Bickford  left  the  smaller  tent,  and  entering 
the  big  one  took  their  seats.  They  watched  the  per 
formance  with  great  wonder  and  enjoyment  till  the 
entrance  of  Kit  and  the  Vincenti  brothers.  They  did 
not  immediately  discover  him,  but  when  he  stood  on 
the  shoulders  of  Alonzo  Vincenti,  who,  in  turn,  stood 
on  the  shoulders  of  Antonio,  and  the  three-storied 
acrobat  walked  roun.d  the  ring,  Mrs.  Bickford  recog- 
6 


g2  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAt. 

nized  .Kit,  and,  pointing  with  her  parasol  to  the 
young  acrobat,  as  she  half  raised  herself  from  her 
seat,  she  exclaimed  in  a  shrill  voice :  "  Look,  Aaron, 
there's  vour  boy,  all  rigged  out  in  circus  clothes !  " 

"  Well,  that  beats  all !  "  ejaculated  the  blacksmith, 
gazing  with  wide  open  mouth  at  Kit. 

Just  then,  Kit,  reversing  his  attitude,  raised  his 
feet  in  the  air  and  was  borne  round  the  ring,  amid 
the  plaudits  of  the  spectators. 

"  How  do  you  think  he  does  it  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Bick- 
ford  in  astonishment. 

"  I  give  it  up/'  said  the  blacksmith. 

"  He's  a  smart  critter.  Do  you  think  they  pay 
him?" 

"  I  reckon  he  gets  two  or  three  dollars  a  week,  but 
he  hain't  no  business  to  hire  out  to  the  circus  folks. 
He's  going  back  with  us  to-night,  and  I'll  turn  him 
out  a  blacksmith  in  two  years." 

When  Kit  had  finished  his  act,  he  went  to  the  dress 
ing  room  and  changed  his  clothes. 

"  I  wonder  whether  the  old  fellow  is  after  me !  "  he 
thought.  "What  could  have  put  it  into  his  head 
that  I  was  here  ?  " 

As  he  emerged  from  the  dressing  room  he  met  Mr. 
Barlow,  the  proprietor  of  the  circus,  who  advanced  to 
wards  him,  and  shook  his  hand  cordially. 

"  Bravo,  my  young  friend !  "  he  said.  "  You  did 
yourself  great  credit.  Are  you  sure  you  have  never 
performed  in  a  circus  before  ?  " 

"  Quite  sure,  sir." 

"  You  went  through  your  act  like  an  old  profes 
sional.  You  did  as  well  as  either  of  the  other  two." 

"  Thank  you,  sir.    I  am  glad  you  are  satisfied." 

"  I  ought  to  be.  I  regard  you  as  a  decided  acqui 
sition  to  my  show.  Keep  on  doing  your  best,  and  I 


MR.   BICKFORD   AT   THE   CIRCUS.  83 

can  assure  you  that  your  efforts  will  be  appreciated. 
How  much  did  I  agree  to  pay  you  ?  " 

"  Ten  dollars  a  week,  sir." 

"  That  isn't  enough.  I  raise  your  salary  at  once  to 
twenty-five." 

Kit  was  dazzled  by  his  good  fortune.  What  f 
Twenty-five  dollars  a  week  and  traveling  expenses 
for  a  boy  of  sixteen !  It  seemed  marvelous. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  am  dreaming,  Mr.  Barlow,"  he  said. 
"  I  can't  believe  that  I  am  really  to  receive  so  hand- 
gome  a  salary." 

"  You  will  realize  it  to-night  when  you  collect  your 
first  week's  pay." 

"  But  this  won't  be  a  full  week,  sir." 

"  Never  mind !  You  shall  receive  full  pay.  Do 
you  think  I  forget  your  heroic  act  at  Smyrna  ?  " 

"  Thank  you,  sir.  I  hope  nothing  will  prevent  my 
continuing  in  your  employ." 

"  What  should  prevent  ? "  asked  Mr.  Barlow, 
quickly.  "  Have  you  had  an  offer  from  another 
show?1" 

"  No,  sir ;  I  am  not  well  known  enough  for  that ; 
but  I  saw  a  man  in  the  audience  who  would  probably 
like  to  get  me  away." 

"Who  is  it?" 

"  A  blacksmith  from  Oakford." 

"  I  don't  understand.  What  have  you  to  do  with 
a  blacksmith  ?  " 

Kit  explained  briefly. 

"  When  do  you  think  he  will  try  to  recover  possec- 
gion  of  you  ?  "  asked  the  circus  proprietor. 

"  Just  after  the  show  is  over." 

"  Has  he  any  papers  ?  " 

"  Not  one." 


84  THE   YGUNG   ACROBAT. 

"  Then  he  has  no  claim  on  you.    If  he  makes  any 
trouble  let  me  know." 
"  I  will,  Mr.  Barlow.* 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

KIT'S      STRATAGEM. 

KIT,  when  dressed,  sought  the  part  of  the  house 
where  he  knew  that  William  Morris  was  seated. 

"How  did  I  do,  Will?"  he  asked. 

"  Splendidly !  "  answered  the  boy  enthusiastically. 
"Ifeltproud'of  you." 

"  I  think  I  have  a  right  to  be  satisfied  myself.  I 
have  had  my  pay  raised." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  you  are  to  get  more  than 
ten  dollars  ? "  said  his  friend,  opening  his  eyes  in 
amazement. 

"  I  am  raised  to  twenty-five." 

'''  You  don't  mean  to  say  you  are  to  get  twenty- 
jfive  dollars  a  week,  Kit  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do." 

"  And  your  board  ?  " 

"And  my  board  and  traveling  expenses,"  added 
Kit,  with  a  smile. 

"  I  wish  I  were  in  your  shoes,  Kit,"  said  William. 
"  Think  of  me  with  only  one  dollar  a  week." 

"  Would  you  be  willing  to  go  through  my  acts 
for  the  money  I  am  going  to  receive  ?  " 

William  shook  his  head. 

"I  couldn't  do  it,  Kit,"  he  replied.  "It  always 
makes  me  dizzy  when  I  have  my  head  down.  I 
don't  believe  I  could  ever  do  anything  in  a  circus." 


KIT'S  STRATAGEM.  85 

"Well,  William,  I  won't  forget  you.  If  I  save 
money,  as  I  am  sure  to  do,  I'll  see  if  I  can't  do  some 
thing  for  you  by  and  by.  By  the  way,  did  you  see 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bickford?" 

"  No,  you  don't  mean  to  say  they  are  here  ?  " 

"  Look  over  there  !  " 

William  followed  the  direction  of  Ki£'s  finger, 
and  he  easily  discovered  the  blacksmith  and  his- 
wife. 

"  By  gracious  !  You're  right !  "  he  said.  "  It's  the 
first  money  I've  known  old  Bickford  to  pay  for  any 
amusement  for  years." 

"  They  came  after  me,  William." 

"  You  won't  go  back  with  them  ?  " 

"  Not  much.  I  don't  care  to  give  up  twenty-five 
dollars  a  week  for  the  privilege  of  learning  the  tr»4« 
of  a  blacksmith." 

"  Suppose  they  try  to  carry  you  off  ?  " 

"  That  gives  me  an  idea.  With  your  help  I'll  tr^ 
to  play  a  trick  on  them.  It'll  be  capital  fun." 

"  Go  ahead  and  tell  me  what  it  is,  Kit.  I'm  witlr 
you ! " 

"  My  plan  is  that  you  should  ride  home  with  Mr 
Bickford,"  said  Kit. 

"  I  don't  understand,"  said  William,  looking  puz 
zled. 

"  I'll  tell  you  my  idea.  Bickford  has  come  here 
with  the  intention  of  taking  me  back  with  him  to  Oak- 
ford." 

"  But  you  don't  mean  to  go  ?  " 

"  Of  course  not,  but  when  the  show  is  over  I  shall 
put  myself  in  his  way,  and  after  a  little  objection 
agree  to  go.  I  will  ask  for  five  minutes  to  get  ready, 
In  that  time  I  will  change  hats  with  you,  and  as  it  is 
dark  you  can  easily  pass  yourself  off  for  me." 


86  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  Capital !  "  exclaimed  William,  laughing.  "  Won't 
the  old  man  look  foolish  when  he  finds  out  who  is 
with  him?" 

"  Don't  let  him  know  till  you  arrive,  or  he  would 
force  you  to  leave  the  carriage,  and  walk  home  alone, 
and  a  six  mile  walk  is  no  joke." 

"  All  right  Kit !  I  understand,  and  I  think  I  can 
carry  out  your  idea.  I  haven't  much  love  for  the  old 
man  or  his  wife  either,  and  I  am  glad  of  a  chance  to 
get  even  with  them." 

The  performance  continued  till  ten  o'clock.  The 
blacksmith  and  his  wife  enjoyed  it  beyond  their  an 
ticipations.  Amusements  of  any  kind  were  new  to 
them,  and  their  pleasure  was  like  that  of  children. 

"  I  begin  to  think,  Sarah,  we  shall  get  our  money's 
worth,"  said  Aaron  cautiously,  as  the  entertainment 
neared  its  end ;  "  this  is  a  great  show." 

"  So  it  is,  Aaron.  I  don't  begrudge  the  money  my 
self,  though  fifty  cents  is  a  pretty  high  price  to  pay. 
Then,  besides,  you'll  have  a  chance  to  carry  the  boy 
home." 

"  That's  so,  Sarah.  Just  as  soon  as  the  show  is 
over,  f oiler  me,  and  we'll  try  to  find  him." 

At  length  the  last  act  was  ended,  and  the  crowd  of 
spectators  began  pouring  from  the  tent. 

Mr.  Bickford  hurriedly  emerged  from  the  audience, 
and  began  to  look  around  for  Kit.  He  had  but  little 
trouble  in  finding  him,  for  the  boy  purposely  put 
himself  in  his  way.  Aaron  Bickford  strode  up  to 
him. 

"  Well,  I've  caught  you  at  last !  "  he  said,  putting 
his  hand  on  the  boy's  shoulder. 

"  What  do  you  want  of  me,  Mr.  Bickford  ?  "  said 
Kit. 

"  What  do  I  want  of  you  ?  Well,  I  want  you  to  go 
home  with  me,  of  course." 


KIT'S   STRATAGEM.  8/ 

"  Won't  you  let  me  stay  with  the  circus  a  week  ?  " 
asked  Kit,  in  a  subdued  tone. 

"  No,  I  won't.  I've  got  the  wagon  here,  and  I'm 
goin'  to  take  you  back  with  me  to-night/' 

"  If  you  really  think  my  uncle  wishes  it,  perhaps 
I  had  better  go/'  said  Kit,  in  what  appeared  to  be  a 
wavering  tone. 

Mr.  Bickford  was  quite  elated.  He  feared  he  should 
have  trouble  in  persuading  Kit  to  accompany  him. 
He  would  not  have  been  surprised  if  the  boy  had 
disappeared,  and  given  him  trouble  to  find  him,  and 
his  unexpected  submissiveness  was  an  agreeable  sur 
prise. 

"  Well,  boy,  it's  time  to  be  goin'.  Oakford's  six 
miles  off,  and  we  won't  get  home  before  midnight 
unless  we  start  right  off." 

"  I'll  go  and  get  my  things,  Mr.  Bickford.  Where 
is  your  horse  and  wagon  ?  " 

"  Out  by  the  entrance.    It's  hitched  to  a  tree." 

"  All  right !  You  go  and  unhitch  the  horse,  and  I'll 
be  right  along." 

"  But  suppose  you  give  me  the  slip  ?  You'd  better 
go  along  now." 

"  I'll  bring  him  with  me,  Mr.  Bickford,"  said  the 
giant.  "  I'm  sorry  he  isn't  going  to  stay  with  us,  and 
I'll  see  him  off." 

Achilles  Henderson  spoke  in  so  straightforward  a 
manner  that  Mr.  Bickford  was  deceived. 

"  Very  well,"  he  said.  "  I'll  go  along  with  Mrs. 
Bickford.  Don't  keep  me  waitin',  for  it's  gettin' 
late." 

The  blacksmith  and  his  wife  took  up  their  march 
to  the  place  where  their  team  had  been  hitched-.  They 
found  it  safe,  and  untied  the  horse. 

"We're  goin'  to  have  a  dark  ride  home,  mother/' 
he  saici. 


88  THE   YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"Yes,  Aaron,  but  you've  done  a  good  evening's 
work." 

"  That's  so,  Sarah.  I  expected  I'd  have  more  trouble 
with  the  boy." 

"  There's  nothing  like  being  firm,  Aaron.  When  he 
saw  yon  were  in  earnest,  he  gave  up." 

"  I  mean  to  keep  a  tight  rein  on  him,  Sarah.  He's 
a  boy  that  likes  to  have  his  own  way,  if  I  ain't  greatly 
mistaken.  We  must  break  his  will." 

The  horse  was  unhitched,  and  still  Kit  had  not 
arrived.  Mr.  Bickford  began  to  fear  that  he  had 
been  tricked  after  all,  when  two  figures,  contrasting 
strongly  with  each  other,  appeared.  One  was  the 
giant,  in  his  ample  height,  and  the  other  was  a  boy. 

"  There  they  are,  Aaron !  "  said  Mrs.  Bickford,  who 
was  the  first  to  descry  the  oddly  assorted  pair. 

"  Where  is  the  boy  to  sit  ?  "  asked  Achilles. 

"  In  the  back  seat.  Mother  and  I  will  sit  in 
front." 

"  All  right !  There  you  are !  "  said  Mr.  Henderson, 
lifting  the  boy  in  his  arms,  as  easily  as  if  he  were  a 
kitten,  and  putting  him  on  the  rear  seat. 

"  Good-by,  Kit !  "  he  said.  "  I'm  sorry  you're  going 
to  leave  us.  Perhaps  Mr.  Bickford  will  let  you  off 
if  we  show  anywhere  near  here." 

"  The  boy  will  be  at  work,  and  can't  be  let  off," 
said  the  blacksmith,  stiffly.  "  But  it  is  time  we  were 
off." 

"  Good-by,  then,  Kit !  "  , 

"  Good-by ! "  said  the  supposed  Kit,  in  a  low  tone, 
for  he  feared  that  the  difference  in  his  voice  would 
be  recognized.  But  Mr.  Bickford  had  no  suspicions. 
He  was  anxious  to  get  started,  for  he  and  his  wife 
were  always  in  bed  by  this  time  ordinarily. 

So  the  team  started,  and  Achilles  Henderson,  sup- 


MR.  BICKFORD'S  MORTIFYING  DISCOVERY.    89 

pressing  a  laugh,  strode  away  to  the  circus  cars, 
which  were  already  being  prepared  for  a  midnight 
journey  to  the  next  place.  It  may  be  explained  here 
that  the  circus  of  to-day  generally  owns  its  own  ca-rs, 
which  are  used  for  the  conveyance  of  all  connected 
with  it,  their  luggage,  the  tents,  the  animals,  and  all 
the  paraphernalia  of  the  show.  As  soon  as  the  show 
is  ended,  the  canvas  men  set  to  work  to  take  down 
and  fold  up  the  tents.  All  the  freight  is  conveyed  to 
the  cars,  and  the  razorbacks,  already  referred  to,  set 
about  loading  them.  The  performers,  ticketmen,  and 
candy  butchers  seek  their  berths  in  the  sleeping  cars 
and  are  often  in  the  land  of  dreams  before  the  train 
starts. 

While  Mr.  Bickford  was  driving  in  the  darkness 
to  Oakford  with  the  supposed  Kit  on  the  back  seat, 
the  real  Kit  was  in  his  berth  in  the  circus  cars,  pre 
paring  for  a  refreshing  night's  rest. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 
MR.  BICKFORD'S  MORTIFYING  DISCOVERY. 

MR.  BICKFORD^  was  in  excellent  spirits.  He  had  en 
joyed  the  evening,  and  although  he  had  been  com 
pelled  to  disburse  a  dollar  for  two  circus  tickets,  a 
sum  which  to  him  seemed  large,  he  was  disposed  to 
acknowledge  that  he  had  received  his  money's  worth. 
Besides,  and  this  seemed  to  him  the  greatest  triumph 
of  all,  he  had  recovered  his  runaway  apprentice,  or 
thought  he  had.  He  inwardly  resolved  that  Kit 
should  smart  for  his  past  insubordination,  though 
he  had  not  yet  decided  in  what  way  he  would  get 


90  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

even  with  him.  The  unexpected  submissiveness 
shown  by  Kit  elated  him,  and  confirmed  him  in  the 
idea  he  had  long  entertained  that  he  could  manage 
boys  a  good  deal  better  than  the  average  of  men. 

"  Talk  about  hard  cases,"  he  said  one  day  to  his 
wife.  "  I'd  like  to  see  the  boy  that  can  get  the 
start  of  Aaron  Bickford.  Hell  have  to  get  up  un 
usually  airly  in  the  morninV 

Mr.  Bickford  felt  a  little  like  crowing  over  his  cap 
tive,  and  turned  his  head  partly  round  to  survey  the 
boy  on  the  back  seat.  Fortunately  for  William  the 
darkness  was  so  great  that  there  was  small  chance  of 
his  detecting  the  imposture. 

"  I  reckon  you  didn't  expect  to  be  ridin'  back  to 
Oakford  along  of  me  this  evening"  he  observed. 

"  No,  sir,"  muttered  William  in  a  voice  scarcely 
audible. 

"  Ho,  ho,  you  feel  kind  of  grouty,  eh  ?  "  said  the 
blacksmith.  "  Well,  I  ain't  much  surprised.  You 
thought  you  could  have  your  own  way  with  Aaron 
Bickford,  but  you're  beginnin'  to  see  your  mistake, 
I  reckon?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  supposed  Kit,  in  a  meek 
voice. 

"  Ho,  ho !  That's  the  way  boys  ginerally  come 
out  when  they  try  to  buck  agin'  their  elders.  Not 
but  you  might  have  succeeded  with  some  men,  but 
you  didn't  know  the  man  you  had  to  deal  with  this 
time." 

There  was  a  sort  of  gurgle,  for  William  was  trying 
hard  not  to  laugh,  as  he  was  picturing  to  himself 
the  rage  and  mortification  of  Mr.  Bickford  when  he 
discovered  the  deceit  that  had  been  practiced  upon 
him.  But  the  blacksmith  misunderstood  the  sound, 
and  thought  Kit  was  sobbing. 


MR.   BICKFORD'S   MORTIFYING   DISCOVERY.      9! 

"  You  needn't  take  on ! "  he  said,  magnanimously. 
"  It  ain't  so  bad  as  it  might  be.  You'll  be  a  good 
deal  better  off  learnin'  a  good  trade  than  trampiri' 
round  the  country  with  the  circus.  I  hope  this'll  be 
a  lesson  to  you.  You'd  better  not  try  to  run  away 
ag'in,  for  it  won't  be  no  use.  You  won't  always  have 
that  long-legged  giant  to  help  you.  If  I'd  done  right, 
I  should  have  had  him  took  up  for  'sault  and  battery. 
He  needn't  think  because  he's  eight  feet  high,  more  or 
less,  that  he  can  defy  the  laws  of  the  land.  I  reckon 
he  got  a  little  skeered  of  what  he  done,  or  he  wouldn't 
have  acted  so  different  this  evening." 

William  did  not  reply  to  this.  He  was  rather  in 
hopes  Mr.  Bickford  would  stop  addressing  him,  for 
he  did  not  like  to  run  the  risk  of  answering,  as  it 
might  open  the  eyes  of  the  blacksmith  to  the  fact  that 
he  had  the  wrong  boy  in  the  wagon. 

The  distance  to  Oakford  steadily  diminished, 
though  Mr.  Bickford's  horse  was  a  slow  one.  At 
length  it  had  dwindled  to  half  a  mile. 

"  Xow  I  don't  care  if  he  does  find  out  who  I  am," 
thought  William.  "  It  ain't  but  a  little  way  home 
now,  and  I  shouldn't  mind  walking."  Still  his  own 
house  was  rather  beyond  Mr.  Bickford's,  and  it  was 
just  as  well  to  ride  the  whole  way,  if  he  could  escape 
detection  so  long. 

"  Where  did  you  learn  them  circus  performances, 
Christopher?"  suddenly  asked  the  blacksmith,  turn 
ing  once  more  in  his  seat. 

By  this  time  they  were  within  a  few  rods  of  the 
blacksmith's  yard,  and  William  became  bold,  now 
that  he  had  nothing  to  lose  by  it. 

"  My  name  isn't  Christopher,"  he  answered  in  his 
usual  tone. 

"  Your  name  isn't  Christopher  ?  That's  what 
your  uncle  told  me," 


92  THE   YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  I  think  you  are  mistaken/'  said  William  quietly. 

"  What's  got  into  the  boy  ?  Is  he  goin'  to  deny  his 
own  name  ?  What  is  your  name,  then  ?  " 

"  My  name  is  William  Morris/'  was  the  distinct 
response. 

"  What !  "  exclaimed  the  blacksmith  in  amazement. 

"  I  think  you  ought  to  know  me,  Mr.  Bickf ord.  I 
Worked  for  you  some  time,  you  know." 

"  Take  off  your  hat,  and  let  me  look  at  your  face ! " 
said  Aaron  Bickford,  sternly. 

William  laughed  as  he  complied  with  the  request. 
It  was  now  rather  lighter,  and  the  blacksmith,  peer 
ing  into  his  face,  saw  that  it  was  indeed  true — that 
the  boy  on  the  back  seat  was  not  Kit  Watson  at  all, 
but  his  ex-apprentice,  William  Morris. 

"It's  Bill  Morris,  by  the  living  jingo!"  he  ex 
claimed.  "  What  do  you  say  to  that,  Sarah?  " 

"  You're  a  master  hand  at  managing  boys,  Aaron," 
said  his  wife  sarcastically. 

"  How  came  you  in  the  wagon,  Bill  Morris  ?  "  de 
manded  Bickford,  not  caring  to  answer  his  wife. 

"  The  giant  put  me  in,"  answered  William. 

"  Where  is  that  boy,  Christopher  Watson?  " 

"  I  expect  he  is  travelin'  with  the  show,  Mr.  Bick 
ford." 

"  Who  put  you  up  to  this  mean  trick  ?  "  demanded 
the  blacksmith,  wrathfully. 

"  Kit  Watson." 

"I've  got  an  account  to  settle  with  you,  William 
Morris.  I  s'pose  you  think  you've  done  something 
pretty  smart." 

"  I  think  he  has,  Aaron,"  said  Mrs.  Bickford,  who 
seemed  to  take  a  malicious  pleasure  in  opening  her 
husband's  wounds  afresh. 

"  Mrs.  Bickford,  it  isn't  very  creditable  in  you  to 


STEPHEN  WATSON  VISITS  OAKFORD.         93 

triumph  over  your  husband,  just  after  he's  been 
spendin'  fifty  cents  for  your  amusement." 

"  Goodness  knows,  Mr.  Bickford,  you  don't  often 
take  me  to  shows.  I  guess  what  you  spend  that  way 
won't  ruin  you." 

While  the  married  pair  were  indulging  in  their 
little  recriminations,  William  had  managed  to  slip 
out  of  the  wagon  in  the  rear,  and  he  was  now  a  rod 
away. 

"  Good  night,  Mr.  Bickford !  "  he  shouted.  "  I'm 
much  obliged  to  you  for  bringing  me  home.  It's 
saved  me  a  long  walk." 

The  blacksmith's  reply  was  one  that  I  do  not  care 
to  record.  He  was  thoroughly  angry  and  disgusted. 
If  it  hadn't  been  so  late  he  would  have  got  out  and 
tried  to  inflict  punishment  on  William  with  his  whip, 
but  the  boy  was  too  far  away  by  this  time  to  make  this 
possible. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

STEPHEN  WATSON"  VISITS  OAKFORD. 

ON  Monday  as  Mr.  Bickford  was  about  his  work  a 
carriage  drove  into  the  yard,  containing  Stephen  Wat 
son  and  Ralph. 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Bickford,"  said  Stephen  Wat 
son.  "  I've  called  over  to  inquire  about  Kit.  I  hope 
he  is  doing  his  duty  by  you." 

The  blacksmith  looked  at  Mr.  Watson  with  em 
barrassment,  and  did  not  immediately  reply. 

Mr.  Watson  repeated  his  question. 

"  Kit  isn't  with  me,"  answered  Bickford,  at  length. 

"  Isn't  with  you ! "  repeated  Stephen  Watson,  in 
surprise.  "  Where  is  he  ?  " 


94  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  He's  run  away." 

"  Kun  away !  "  ejaculated  Kit's  uncle.  "  What  is 
the  meaning  of  that  ?  " 

"  He  said  he  didn't  want  to  be  a  blacksmith,  and 
that  you  had  no  authority  to  make  him." 

"  But  where  has  he  gone  ?     Have  you  any  idea  ?  " 

"  He  has  gone  off  with  Barlow's  circus." 

"  But  what  object  can  he  have  in  going  off  with  a 
circus  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Watson,  no  less  bewildered. 

"  They've  hired  him  to  perform." 

"  Are  you  sure  of  this  ?  " 

"  I  ought  to  be/'  answered  the  blacksmith,  grimly. 
<e  My  wife  and  I  saw  him  jumpin'  round  last  evenin' 
in  the  circus  tent  over  at  Graf  ton." 

"  But  I  don't  see  what  he — a  green  hand — can  do. 
Ealph,  can  you  throw  any  light  on  this  mystery  ?  " 

Ralph  explained  that  Kit  had  practiced  acrobatic 
feats  extensively  at  the  gymnasium  connected  with 
the  school. 

"  Did  he  ever  talk  of  going  off  with  a  circus  ?  " 
asked  Mr.  Watson. 

"  Never,  though  he  enjoyed  the  exercise." 

"  I  went  after  him  and  tried  to  get  him  back,"  said 
Mr.  Bickford,  "  but  he  gave  me  the  slip." 

"  He's  done  a  very  foolish  and  crazy  thing.  He 
can't  get  more  than  three  or  four  dollars  a  week  from 
the  circus,  and  in  the  fall  he'll  be  out  of  a  job." 

"Just  as  you  say,  sir.  He'd  have  a  good  payin' 
trade  if  he  stayed  with  me.  What  do  you  think  it  is 
best  to  do  about  it,  Mr.  Watson  ?  " 

"  I  shall  do  nothing.  If  the  boy  chooses  to  make  a 
fool  of  himself,  he  may  try  it.  Next  fall,  and  pos 
sibly  before,  he'll  be  coming  back  in  rags,  and  beg  me 
to  take  him  back." 

"  I  hope  you  won't  take  him  back,"  said  Ralph,  who 
was  jealous  of  Kit. 


STEPHEN  WATSON  VISITS  OAKFORD.         95 

*  I  shall  not  consider  myself  bound  to  do  so,  but  if 
he  consents  to  obey  me,  and  learn  a  trade  of  Mr. 
Bickford,  I  will  fit  him,  up  and  enable  him  to  do  so 
— out  of  charity,  and  because  he  is  my  nephew/' 

"  Then  you  don't  mean  to  do  anything  about  it, 
sir  ?  "  asked  Aaron  Bickford,  considerably  disappoint 
ed,  for  he  longed  to  get  Kit  into  his  power  once  more. 

"  No,  I  will  leave  the  boy  to  himself.  Ralph,  as 
our  business  seems  to  be  over,  we  will  turn  about  and 
go  home." 

Mr.  Watson  drove  out  of  the  blacksmith's  yard. 

"  Well,  Ralph,"  he  said,  as  they  were  on  their  way 
home,  "  I  am  very  much  annoyed  at  what  your  cousin 
has  done,  but  I  don't  see  that  I  am  to  blame." 

"  Of  course  you're  not,  pa,"  returned  Ralph, 
promptly. 

"  Still  the  public  may  misjudge  me.  It  will  be 
very  awkward  to  answer  questions  about  Kit.  I 
really  don't  know  what  to  say." 

"  Say  he's  run  away  and  joined  the  circus.  We 
might  as  well  tell  the  truth." 

"  I  don't  know  but  it  will  be  best.  I  will -add  that, 
though  it  grieves  me,  I  think  it  advisable,  as  he  is  so 
old,  not  to  interfere  with  him,  but  let  him  see  the 
error  of  his  way  for  himself.  I  will  say  also  that 
when  he  chooses  to  come  back,  I  will  make  suitable 
arrangements  for  him." 

"  I  guess  that  will  do.     I  will  say  the  same." 

"  I  don't  mind  saying  to  you  that  I  shall  feel  it 
quite  a  relief  to  be  rid  of  the  expense  of  maintaining 
him,  for  be  has  cost  me  a  great  deal  of  money.  You 
are  my  son,  and  of  course  I  expect  to  take  care  of  you, 
and  bring  you  up  as  a  gentleman,  but  he  has  no  claim 
upon  me  except  that  of  relationship.  I  won't  say  that 
to  others,  however." 


g  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  You  are  quite  right,  pa.  As  he  is  poor,  and  has 
his  ownUiyng'to  make,  it  isn't  best  to  send  him  to  a 
high-priced  "school,  and  give  him  too  much  money  to 
spend." 

It  will  be  seen  that  there  was  a  striking  resem 
blance  between  the  views  of  father  and  son,  both  of 
whom  were  intensely  selfish,  mean  and  unscrupulous. 

Stephen  Watson  foresaw  that  there  would  be  a 
difficulty  in  making  outside  friends  of  the  family 
understand  why  Kit  had  left  home.  He  deliberately 
resolved  to  misrepresent  him,  and  the  opportunity 
came  sooner  than  he  anticipated. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  day  of  his  call  upon  the 
blacksmith,  there  was  a  ring  at  the  bell,  and  a  middle- 
aged  stranger  was  ushered  into  the  parlor. 

"  I  suppose  you  don't  remember  me/'  he  said  to 
Stephen  Watson. 

"  I  can't  say  I  do,"  replied  Stephen,  eying  him. 

"  I  knew  your  brother  better  than  I  did  you.  I 
am  Harry  Miller,  who  used  to  go  to  school  with  you 
both  in  the  old  red  schoolhouse  on  the  hill." 

"  I  remember  your  name,  but  I  should  not  have 
remembered  you." 

"  I  don't  wonder.  Time  changes  us  all.  I  am 
sorry  to  hear  that  your  poor  brother  is  dead." 

"  Yes,"  answered  Stephen,  heaving  a  sigh  proper 
to  the  occasion,  which  was  intended  to  signify  his 
grief  at  the  loss.  "  He  was  cut  down  like  the  grass 
of  the  field.  It  is  the  common  lot." 

"  His  wife  died  earlier,  did  she  not?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  But  there  was  a  son  ?  " 


"How  old  is  the  boy?" 
"  Just  turned  sixteen," 


STEPHEN   WATSON  VISITS   OAKFORD.         97 

"  May  I  see  him  ?  I  should  like  to  see  the  son  of 
my  old  deskmate." 

"  Ah !  "  sighed  Stephen.  "  I  wish  he  were  here  to 
meet  you." 

"  But  surely  he  is  not  dead?  " 

"  No ;  he  is  not  dead,  but  he  is  a  source  of  anxiety 
to  me." 

"  And  why  ? "  asked  the  visitor,  with  concern. 
"  Has  he  turned  out  badly  ?  "• 

"  Why,  I  don't  know  that  I  can  exactly  say  that 
he  has  turned  out  badly." 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  him,  then? " 

"  He  is  wayward,  and  instead  of  being  willing  to 
devote  himself  to  his  school  studies  like  my  son 
Ralph,  he  has  formed  an  extraordinary  taste  for  the 
circus." 

"  Indeed  !  but  where  is  he  ?  " 

"  He  is  traveling  with  Barlow's  circus." 

"  In  what  capacity  ?  " 

"  As  an  acrobat." 

Henry  Miller  laughed. 

"  I  remember,"  he  said,  "  that  his  father  was  fond 
of  athletic  sports.  You  never  were." 

"  No,  I  was  a  quiet  boy." 

"  That  you  were,  and  uncommonly  sly !  "  thought 
Miller,  but  he  did  not  consider  it  polite  to  say  so. 
"Is  the  boy — by  the  way,  what  is  his  name  ?  " 

"  Christopher.     He  is  generally  called  Kit." 

"  Well,  is  Kit  a  good  gymnast?  " 

"  I  believe  he  is." 

"  When  did  he  join  the  circus  ?  " 

"  Only  yesterday.  In  fact  it  is  painful  for  me  to 
say  so,  he  ran  away  from  a  good  home  to  associate 
with  mountebanks." 

"  And  what  are  you  goingk  to  do  about  it  ?  " 
.7 


9B  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  He  is  so  headstrong  that  I  have  thought  it  best 
to  give  him  his  own  way,  and  let  him  see  for  himself 
how  foolish  he  has  been.  Of  course  he  has  a  home  to 
return  to  whenever  he  sees  fit." 

"  That  may  be  the  best  way.  I  should  like  to  see 
the  young  rascal.  I  would  follow  up  the  circus  and 
do  so,  only  I  am  unfortunately  called  to  California 
on  business.  I  am  part  owner  of  a  gold  mine  out 
there." 

"  I  trust  you  have  been  prospered  in  your  worldly 
affairs." 

"  Yes,  I  have  every  reason  to  be  thankful.  I  sup 
pose  I  am  worth  two  hundred  thousand  dollars." 

Stephen  Watson,  whose  god  was  money,  almost 
turned  green  with  jealousy.  At  the  same  time  he 
asked  himself  how  he  could  take  advantage  of  his  old 
schoolmate's  good  luck. 

"  I  wish  he  would  take  a  fancy  to  my  Ralph,"  he 
thought. 

So  he  called  in  Ralph,  and  introduced  him  to  the 
rich  stranger. 

"  He's  a  good  boy,  my  Ralph,"  he  said ;  "  sober  and 
correct  in  all  his  habits2  and  fond  of  study." 

Ralph  was  rather  surprised  to  hear  this  panegyric, 
but  presently  his  father  explained  to  him  in  private 
the  object  he  had  in  view.  Then  Ralph  made  himself 
as  agreeable  as  he  could,  but  he  failed  to  please  Mr. 
Miller. 

"  He  is  too  much  like  his  father,"  he  said  to  him 
self. 

When  he  terminated  his  call,  he  received  a  very  cor 
dial  invitation  to  come  again  on  his  return  from  Cal 
ifornia. 

"  If  Kit  has  returned  I  certainly  will  come,"  he  re 
plied,  an  answer  F^ch  pleased  neither  Ralph 
his  father. 


A   CHAT  WITH   A   CANDY    BUTCHER.  99 


CHAPTER  XX. 

A  CHAT  WITH  A  CANDY  BUTCHER. 

KIT  had  a  berth  assigned  him  in  one  of  the  circus 
cars.  His  nearest  neighbor  was  Harry  Thome,  a 
young  man  of  twenty-four,  who  filled  the  position  of 
candy  butcher.  As  this  term  may  sound  strange  to 
my  readers,  I  will  explain  that  it  is  applied  to  the 
venders  of  candy,  lemonade,  peanuts,  and  other  arti 
cles  such  as  are  patronized  by  those  who  come  to  see 
the  show.  It  is  really  a  very  profitable  business,  as 
will  be  explained  in  the  course  of  the  story. 

Harry  Thorne  was  social  and  ready  to  give  Kit  any 
information  about  the  circus. 

"  How  long  is  it  since  you  joined  a  circus?"  asked 
Kit,  after  getting  acquainted. 

"  I  was  younger  than  you,"  answered  Thorne. 
"  Why  did  you  join  ?     What  gave  you  the  idea  ?  " 
"  A  spirit  of  adventure,  I  think.     Besides,  there 
was  a  large  family  of  us — I  am  the  oldest — and  it  was 
necessary  for  me  to  do  something." 

"  That's  a  queer  name — candy  butcher." 
"  It  seems  so  to  you,  but  I  am  used  to  it." 
"  Did  you  become  a  candy  butcher  at  once?  " 
"  Xot  till  I  was  eighteen.  Before  that  I  ran  errands 
and  made  myself  generally  useful.     I  thought  of  be 
ing  an  acrobat,  like  you,  but  I  was  too  stout  and  not 
active  enough." 

"  I  shouldn't  think  there  would  be  much  money 
made  in  your  business,"  said  Kit. 


100  THE   YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  That  shows  you  don't  know  much  about  circus 
matters.  Last  fall  I  ran  in  with  seven  hundred  dol 
lars  saved,  besides  paying  all  my  expenses  during  the 
six  months  I  was  out/' 

"  You  ought  to  be  pretty  well  off  now,  if  you  have 
been  a  candy  butcher  for  five  or  six  years." 

"  I  haven't  a  cent,  and  am  owing  two  hundred  dol 
lars  in  Philadelphia." 

"How  is  that?" 

"  You  don't  often  find  a  circus  man  that  saves 
money.  It's  easy  come,  easy  go.  But  I  send  money 
home  every  season — three  or  four  hundred  dollars  at 
least,  if  I  do  well." 

"  That's  a  good  thing  any  way.  But  if  I  were  in 
your  place  I  would  put  away  some  money  every  sea 
son." 

"  I  could  do  it,  but  it's  hard  to  make  up  my  mind." 

"  I  can't  see  how  you  can  make  such  sums.  It  puz 
zles  me." 

"  We  are  paid  a  fixed  salary,  say  twenty-five  dollars 
a  month,  and  commission  on  sales.  I  was  always 
pretty  lucky  in  selling,  and  my  income  has  sometimes 
been  very  large.  But  I  don't  make  much  in  large 
places.  It  is  in  the  smaller  towns  that  the  money  is 
made.  When  a  country  beau  brings  his  girl  to  the 
circus,  he  don't  mind  expense.  He  makes  up  his  mind 
to  spend  several  dollars  in  having  a  good  time — so 
he  buys  lemonade,  peanuts,  apples,  and  everything 
that  he  or  his  girl  fancies.  In  the  city,  where  there 
are  plenty  of  places  where  such  things  can  be  bought, 
we  don't  sell  much.  In  New  York  or  Philadelphia  I 
make  very  little  more  than  my  salary." 

"  What  is  there  most  profit  on?  "'asked  Kit. 

"Well,  I  should  say  lemofiade.  You've  heard  of 
circus  lemonade  ?  " 

"Is  there  anything  peculiar  about  it?" 


A  CHAT  WITH  A  CANDY  BUTCHER.        IOI 

"Yes,  something  peculiarly  weak.  A  good-sized 
lemon  will  make  half  a  dozen  glasses,  and  perhaps 
more.  But  there  is  something  cheaper  still,  and  that 
is  citric  acid.  I  remember  one  hot  day  in  an  Ohio 
town.  The  thermometer  stood  at  99  degrees  and 
there  wasn't  a  drop  of  spring  or  well  water  to  be  had, 
for  we  had  cornered  it.  All  who  were  thirsty  had  to 
drink  lemonade,  and  it  took  a  good  many  glasses  to 
quench  thirst.  I  made  a  harvest  that  day,  and  so  did 
the  other  candy  butchers.  If  we  could  have  a  whole 
summer  of  such  days,  I  could  retire  on  a  small  for 
tune  in  October/* 

"  Do  you  like  the  circus  business  ?  " 

"  Sometimes  I  get  tired  of  it,  but  when  the  spring 
opens  I  generally  have  the  circus  fever." 

"  What  do  you  do  in  the  winter  ?  " 

"  It  is  seldom  I  get  anything  to  do.  I  am  an  ex 
pense,  and  that  is  why  I  find  myself  in  debt  when 
the  new  season  opens.  Last  winter  I  was  more  lucky. 
A  young  fellow — an  old  circus  acquaintance  of  mine 
— has  a  store  in  the  country,  and  he  offered  to  sup 
ply  me  with  a  stock  of  goods  to  sell  on  commission 
in  country  villages  near  by.  In  that  way  I  filled  up 
about  three  months,  making  my  expenses,  but  doing 
nothing  more.  However,  that  was  a  great  thing  for 
me,  and  I  start  this  season  only  two  hundred  dollars 
in  debt,  as  I  think  I  told  you  a  few  minutes  ago." 

"  Is  it  the  same  way  with  performers?  " 

"  No ;  they  have  a  better  chance.  Next  winter,  if 
you  try,  you  can  probably  make  an  engagement  to 
perform  at  some  dime  museum  or  variety  hall,  in  New 
York  or  elsewhere.  I  once  got  the  position  of  ticket 
seller  for  a  part  of  the  winter." 

"  I  don't  think  I  should  like  to  perform  in  a  dime 
museum,"  said  Kit. 


102  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  What's  the  odds,  if  you  are  well  paid  for  it  ?  " 

"  I  don't  intend  to  make  my  present  business  a 
permanent  one." 

"  That's  different.    What  will  you  do  next  fall  ?  " 

"  I  may  go  to  school." 

Harry  Thome  whistled. 

"  That  will  be  a  novelty,"  he  said.  "  I  haven't  been 
to  school  since  I  was  twelve  years  old." 

"  Wouldn't  you  like  to  go  now  ?  " 

"  No ;  I'm  too  old.    Are  you  much  of  a  scholar  ?  " 

"  I'm  a  pretty  good  Latin  scholar,  and  know  some 
thing  of  Greek." 

"  I'll  bet  there  isn't  another  acrobat  in  the  country 
that  can  say  that.  What  salary  do  you  get,  if  you 
don't  mind  telling  ?  " 

"  Twenty-five  dollars  a  week." 

"  You're  in  luck.  How  came  Barlow  to  give  you 
so  much  ?  " 

"  I  think  he  took  a  liking  to  me.  Perhaps  he 
wanted  to  pay  me  for  facing  the  lion  at  Smyrna." 

"  Were  you  the  boy  who  did  that  ?  I  thought  your 
face  looked  familiar.  You've  got  pluck,  Kit." 

"  I  hope  so ;  but  I'm  not  sure  whether  it  is  I  or  the 
snuff  that  is  entitled  to  the  most  credit." 

"  Anyhow  it  took  some  courage,  even  if  you  did 
have  the  snuff  with  you." 

*'  Do  you  know  what  is  to  be  our  route  this  sea 
son?" 

"  I  think  we  are  going  West  as  far  as  St.  Louis, 
taking  all  the  larger  towns  and  cities  on  our  way. 
We  are  to  show  a  week  in  Chicago.  But  I  don't  care 
so  much  for  the  cities  as  the  country  towns — the  one- 
night  places." 

"  Does  Mr.  Barlow  go  with  us  ?  " 

"  Not  steadily.    He  drops  in  on  r*  here  and  there. 


KIT   MEETS   A   SCHOOLMATE.  103 

There's  one  thing  I  can  say  for  him— he  won't  have 
any  man  in  his  employ  drink  or  gamble.  We  have 
to  bind  ourselves  to  total  abstinence  while  we  are  in 
his  employ — that  is,  till  the  end  of  the  season. 
Gambling  is  the  great  vice  of  circus  men;  it  is  more 
prevalent  even  than  drinking." 

"  Don't  the  men  do  it  on  the  sly  ?  " 

"  They  run  a  risk  if  they  do.  At  the  first  offense 
they  are  fined,  at  the  second  or  third  they  are 
bounced." 

"That  doesn't  trouble  me  any.  I  neither  drink 
nor  gamble." 

"  Good  for  you." 

"  Say,  when  are  you  two  fellows  goin'  to  stop 
talkin'  ?  "  was  heard  from  a  neighboring  berth.  "  You 
don't  give  a  fellow  a  chance  to  sleep." 

Kit  and  his  new  friend  took  the  hint  and  addressed 
themselves  to  slumber. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

KIT  MEETS  A  SCHOOLMATE. 

KIT  slept  profoundly,  being  very  tired.  He  was 
taken  by  surprise  when,  the  next  morning,  he  was 
shaken  into  a  state  of  wakefulness,  and  opening  his 
eyes  met  those  of  his  neighbor  Harry  Thorne. 

"  Is  it  morning  ?  "  he  asked,  in  a  sleepy  tone. 

"  I  should  say  it  was.  It  is  a  quarter  after  nine, 
and  the  parade  starts  at  ten." 

"The  parade?" 

"  Yes ;  we  give  a  morning  parade  in  every  place  we 
visit.  If  you  are  not  on  hand  to  take  part  in  it,  you 
will  be  fined  five  dollars," 


104  THE   YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

.  "  Til  be  up  in  a  jiffy/'  said  Kit,  springing  out  of 
his  berth.  "  But  there's  time  enough,  isn't  there  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  but  not  too  much.  You  will  want  to  get 
some  breakfast.  By  the  way,  are  you  used  to  driv- 
ing?" 

"  Oh,  yes.  I  have  done  a  good  deal  of  it,"  an 
swered  Kit. 

"  I  thought  so,  as  you  are  a  country  boy.  How 
would  you  like  to  drive  a  span  of  horses  attached  to 
one  of  the  small  chariots  ?  " 

Kit  was  extremely  fond  of  a  horse,  and  he  an 
swered  promptly,  "  I'll  do  it." 

"  There  are  two.  The  other  is  driven  by  Charlie 
Davis,  once  a  performer  but  now  a  ticket  man.  He 
is  a  little  older  than  you." 

"  All  right !  I  don't  see  how  I  came  to  sleep  so 
late." 

"  You  and  Charlie  are  good  matches.  Once  he 
went  to  bed  Saturday  night,  and  did  not  wake  up  till 
Monday  morning." 

"  That  beats  my  record  !  " 

Kit  was  dressed  in  less  than  ten  minutes. 

"Where  shall  I  get  breakfast?"  he  asked. 

"  The  regular  breakfast  is  over,  and  you  will  have 
to  buy  some.  There  is  a  restaurant  just  opposite  the 
lot.  You  might  get  in  with  one  of  the  cooks,  and 
get  something  in  the  cook  tent." 

"  No ;  I'll  go  to  the  restaurant.  To-morrow  I'll  be 
on  hand  at  the  regular  breakfast." 

The  restaurant  was  a  small  one,  with  no  preten 
sions  to  style,  but  Kit  was  hungry  and  not  particu 
lar.  At  the  same  table  there  was  a  dark  complex- 
ioned  boy  of  about  his  own  size,  who  had  just  begun 
to  dispatch  a  beefsteak. 

He  looked  up  as  Kit  seated  himself. 


KIT   MEETS   A   SCHOOLMATE.  10$ 

"  You're  the  new  acrobat,  are  you  not  ?  "  asked  the 
other. 

"  Yes ;  are  you  Charlie  Davis  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  how  do  you  know  me  ?  " 

"  Harry  Thome  was  speaking  of  you." 

"  I  see  you're  one  of  the  late  birds  as  well  as  I.  I 
generally  have  to  buy  my  breakfast  outside.  How 
do  you  like  circus  life  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  tried  it  well  enough  to  tell.  This  is 
only  my  second  day." 

"  I  went  into  it  at  fourteen.  I've  been  an  acrobat, 
too,  but  I  have  a  weak  ankle,  and  have  gone  into  the 
ticket  department." 

"  Are  you  going  to  remain  in  the  circus  perma 
nently  ?  " 

"  ISTo,  I'm  trying  to  wean  myself  from  it.  A  friend 
has  promised  to  set  me  up  in  business  whenever  I  get 
ready  to  retire.  If  I  kept  on,  I  would  be  no  better 
off  at  forty  than  I  am  now." 

"  Yet  circus  people  make  a  good  deal  of  money,  I 
hear." 

"Right  you  are,  my  boy,  but  they  don't  keep  it. 
They  get  spoiled  for  anything  else,  and  soon  or  later 
they  are  left  out  in  the  cold.  I've  had  a  good  deal 
of  fun  out  of  it,  for  I  like  traveling,  but  I'm  going 
to  give  it  up." 

"  I  took  it  up  because  I  had  nothing  else  to  do,  but 
I  shan't  stay  in  it  long.  I'll  tell  you  about  it  some 
day.  I  hear  you  drive  one  of  the  pony  chariots." 

"  Yes." 

"  I  am  to  drive  the  other." 

"  Good !  Don't  let  them  run  away  with  you,  my 
boy." 

"  I'll  try  not  to,"  said  Kit,  smiling.  "  Is  there  any 
danger  ?  " 


IO6  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"Not  much.  They're  trained.  Are  you  fond  of 
horses?" 

"  I  like  nothing  better/' 

"  So  it  is  with  me.  I'll  wait  till  you  are  through 
breakfast,  and  then  we'll  go  over  together." 

Half  an  hour  later  Kit  sat  on  the  box  of  a  chariot, 
drawn  by  two  beautiful  ponies.  The  circus  line  had 
been  formed,  and  the  parade  began.  Behind  him 
was  a  circus  wagon,  or  rather  a  cage  on  wheels, 
through  the  gratings  of  which  could  be  seen  a  tiger, 
crafty  and  cruel  looking.  In  front  was  an  elephant, 
with  two  or  three  performers  on  his  back.  Kit  was 
dressed  in  street  costume,  his  circus  dress  not  being 
required. 

In  another  part  of  the  procession  was  Charlie  Da 
vis,  driving  a  corresponding  wagon. 

Kit  felt  a  peculiar  exhilaration  as  he  drove  his 
ponies,  and  reflected  upon  the  strangeness  of  his  posi 
tion,  as  compared  with  his  previous  experiences. 
He  had  from  time  to  time  watched  circus  processions, 
but  not  in  his  wildest  and  most  improbable  dreams 
had  it  ever  occurred  to  him  to  imagine  that  he  would 
ever  himself  take  part  in  one.  As  he  looked  down 
from  his  perch  lie  saw  the  streets  lined  with  the  usual 
curious  crowd  of  spectators,  among  whom  boys  were 
largely  represented. 

"  I  suppose  some  of  them  are  envying  me,"  he 
thought  to  himself,  with  a  smile.  "  Suppose  there 
was  some  one  who  recognized  me  ?  " 

No  sooner  had  the  thought  come  into  his  mind, 
than  he  heard  his  own  name  called  in  a  voice  indi 
cating  amazement. 

"  Kit  Watson,  by  all  that's  wonderful !  "  were  the 
words  that  fell  on  his  ears. 

Looking  to  the  right,  his  glance  fell  upon  Jack 


KIT   MEETS  A  SCHOOLMATE. 

Dormer,  a  schoolmate,  who  had  been  attending  the 
same  academy  with  him  for  a  year  past. 

Kit  colored,  feeling  a  little  embarrassed. 

"  How  are  you,  Jack  ?  "  he  said. 

"  How  came  you  in  this  circus  procession,  Kit  ?  " 

"  I  can't  tell  you  now.  Come  round  to  the  lot, 
after  the  parade  is  over,  and  I'll  tell  you  all  about 
it." 

Jack  availed  himself  of  the  invitation  and  pre 
sented  himself  at  the  circus  grounds. 

"  What  does  it  all  mean,  Kit  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Have 
you  really  and  truly  joined  the  circus?'7 

"  Come  round  this  afternoon,  and  you'll  see  me 
perform.  I  am  one  of  the  Vincent!  brothers,  acro 
bats." 

"  But  what  put  it  in  your  head  ?  That's  what  I 
want  to  know  ?  " 

"  I  thought  I  would  like  it  better  than  being  a 
blacksmith/' 

"  But  who  ever  dreamed  of  your  being  a  black 
smith?" 

"  My  uncle  did.    I'll  tell  you  all  about  it." 

Kit  told  his  story.  Jack  Dormer  listened  with 
sympathetic  interest. 

"  Do  they  pay  you  well  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  get  twenty-five  dollars  a  week,  and  all  ex 
penses." 

"  Can  you  get  me  a  job  ?  "  asked  Jack  quite  over 
come  by  the  magnificence  of  the  salary. 

"As" an  acrobat,  Jack?"  asked  Kit,  laughing,  for 
Jack  had  the  reputation  of  being  one  of  the  clumsi 
est  boys  in  school. 

"  Well,  no,  I  don't  suppose  I  could  do  much  in  that 
way,  but  isn't  there  something  I  could  do  ?  " 

"Take  my  advice,  Jack,  and  give  it  up.     You've 


108  -THE   YOUNG   ACROBAT. 

got  a  good  home,  and  there  is  no  need  of  your  going 
into  any  such  business  even  if  you  were  qualified/7 

"Don't  you  like  it?" 

"  I  can't  tell  yet.  Of  course  it  is  exciting,  but 
those  who  have  been  in  it  a  good  while  advise  against 
it.  I  may  not  stay  in  it  more  than  one  season." 

"  Shall  I  tell  the  fellows  at  school  where  you  are?  " 

"  No,  I  would  rather  you  wouldn't." 

"  Does  your  cousin  Ealph  come  back  to  school  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  We  could  spare  him  a  good  deal  better  than 
you." 

"  I  am  not  fond  of  Ralph  myself,  but  the  world  is 
wide  enough  for  us  both." 

Kit  saw  his  schoolmate  again  after  the  afternoon 
performance,  and  received  many  compliments. 

"  I  couldn't  believe  it  was  you,"  he  said.  "  You 
acted  as  if  you  were  an  old  hand  at  the  business." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

NEW     ACQUAINTANCES. 

SUNDAY  was  of  course  a  day  of  rest  for  the  circus 
employees.  Most  of  them  observed  it  by  lying  in 
bed  unusually  late.  Kit,  however,  rose  in  good  sea 
son,  and  found  himself  first  at  breakfast.  When  the 
proper  time  arrived,  he  walked  to  the  village,  and 
selecting  the  first  church  he  came  to,  entered.  He 
had  always  been  in  the  habit  of  attending  church, 
and  felt  that  there  was  no  good  reason  why  he  should 
give  up  the  practice  now  that  he  was  away  from 
home. 


NEW   ACQUAINTANCES.  IOQ 

He  stood  in  the  lobby,  waiting  for  the  sexton  to 
appear,  when  a  fine-looking  man  of  middle  age  en 
tered  the  church  with  a  young  girl  of  fourteen  at  his 
side. 

He  glanced  at  Kit  with  interest,  and  after  a  mo 
ment's  pause  walked  up  to  him. 

"  Are  you  a  stranger  here  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  sir/'  answered  Kit. 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  you  accept  a  seat  in  my 
pew." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Kit,  politely ;  "  I  was  wait 
ing  for  the  sextori,  intending  to  ask  him  for  a  seat." 

"  I  have  plenty  of  room  in  my  pew,  having  only 
my  daughter  with  me.  Are  you  staying  long  in  the 
town  ?  " 

"  Only  as  long  as  the  circus  does,"  answered  Kit. 

The  gentleman  looked  surprised. 

"  Are  you  connected  with  the  circus  ?  "  he  asked, 
quickly. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

By  this  time  the  young  girl  was  examining  Kit 
with  interest  arid  attention. 

"  Is  it  possible  you  are  a  performer  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  I  wouldn't  have  dreamed  it.  You  look  like  a 
young  gentleman." 

"  I  hope  I  am,  sir." 

"  Pardon  me,  I  meant  no  offense,  but  you  don't  at 
all  answer  my  idea  of  a  circus  performer." 

"  I  have  only  been  two  days  with  the  circus,"  said 
Kit;  "and  that  may  account  for  my  not  having  a 
circus  look." 

"  It  is  time  to  take  our  seats.  I  will  speak  with 
you  afterwards.  First,  however,  let  me  introduce 
my  daughter,  Evelyn  Grant," 


HO  THE   YOUNG   ACROBAT. 

"  I  am  glad  to  make  your  acquaintance,  Miss  Eve 
lyn,"  said  Kit,  removing  his  hat.  "  My  name  is 
Christopher  Watson." 

Evelyn  offered  her  hand  with  a  smile. 

"  I  had  no  idea  circus  young  men  were  so  polite," 
she  said. 

There  was  no  chance  for  any  further  conversation, 
as  they  had  entered  the  church.  Mr.  Grant's  pew 
was  in  a  prominent  position.  He  drew  back  to  let 
the  two  young  people  enter.  They  seated  them 
selves  at  the  lower  end  of  the  pew  and  Mr.  Grant 
took  his  seat  at  the  head.  Kit  noticed  that  several 
persons  in  neighboring  pews  regarded  him  with  ap 
parent  curiosity. 

Kit  enjoyed  the  services,  which  were  of  an  in 
teresting  character.  He  had  expected  to  feel  like 
a  stranger,  but  thanks  to  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Grant, 
he  felt  quite  as  much  at  home  as  when  he  sat  in  his 
uncle's  pew  at  Smyrna. 

When  the  services^  were  over,  they  filed  slowly  out 
of  church.  A  new  surprise  was  in  store  for  Kit. 

"  If  you  have  no  engagement  we  shall  be  glad  to 
have  you  dine  with  us,  Master  Watson,"  said  Mr. 
Grant. 

66  You  will  come,  won't  you  ?  "  said  Evelyn,  with  a 
smile. 

"You  are  very  kind,"  said  Kit,  in  grateful  sur 
prise.  ee  Nothing  could  be  more  agreeable  to  me." 

Just  then  a  gentleman  approached  Mr.  Grant,  and 
said :  "  I  am  glad  to  see  you  looking  so  well,  Mr. 
Mayor." 

"  Is  your  father  the  mayor  of  the  city  ?  "  asked  Kit. 

"  Yes ;  he  was  elected  last  December." 

"  I  am  very  fortunate  to  be  invited  to  dinner  by 
the  mayor." 


NEW  ACQUAINTANCES.  Ill 

"  And  by  the  mayor's  daughter.  Don't  forget 
that." 

"  You  may  be  sure  I  appreciate  that,  too." 

"  How  funny  it  seems  to  me  to  be  walking  with  a 
circus  performer!  What  do  you  do?  You  don't 
stand  upon  a  horse's  back,  and  jump  through  hoops, 
do  you  ?  " 

"  No,  I  can't  do  that/' 

"  But  what  do  you  do  ?  " 

"  I  am  an  acrobat." 

Kit  explained  to  her  what  he  did. 

"  It  must  be  very  hard." 

"  Oh,  no !  I  learned  to  do  it  in  a  gymnasium,  be 
fore  I  ever  dreamed  of  being  connected  with  a  circus." 

"  Where  was  the  gymnasium  ?  " 

"  Attached  to  Dr.  Codman's  academy." 

"  Why,  I  had  a  cousin  who  attended  there/'  said 
Evelyn,  in  surprise. 

"  What  was  his  name  ?  " 

"  Edward  Moore." 

"  I  know  him  very  well.    He  is  a  nice  fellow." 

At  this  moment  Kit,  in  looking  around,  was  sur 
prised  to  see  the  familiar  face  and  figure  of  Mr.  Bar 
low,  the  circus  proprietor,  who  had  evidently,  like 
himself,  been  attending  the  service.  Recognition 
was  mutual. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you  here,  Watson,"  said  Mr. 
Barlow,  offering  his  hand.  "  I  always  attend  church 
myself  when  I  have  an  opportunity,  but  I  am  afraid 
few  in  rny  employ  follow  my  example.  I  always  feel 
more  confidence  in  any  young  man  who  seems  to  en 
joy  a  church  service." 

Mr.  Barlow  was  a  man  whose  name  was  widely 
known,  and  Kit  saw  that  Mr.  Grant  looked  as  if  he 
would  like  to  be  introduced. 


112  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  Mr.  Barlow/7  he  said,  "  allow  me  to  introduce  a 
new  friend,  Mr.  Grant,  the  mayor  of  the  town." 

"  I  am  pleased  to  make  your  acquaintance,  Mr. 
Mayor/'  said  the  showman,  offering  his  hand. 

"  The  pleasure  is  mutual,  sir,"  said  the  mayor.  "  I 
need  not  say  that  your  name  has  long  been  familiar 
to  me." 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  taken  one  of  my  young  men 
under  your  wing.  He  is  a  recent  acquisition,  but  I 
have  reason  to  think  well  of  him." 

"  He  is  to  dine  with  us  to-day.  I  shall  be  glad  to 
extend  an  invitation  to  you  also,  Mr.  Barlow." 

"  You  are  very  kind,  and  but  for  a  previous  en 
gagement  I  would  accept  with  pleasure.  I  shall  be 
glad  to  see  you  at  my  show  to-morrow  with  compli 
mentary  tickets." 

"  What  a  nice  old  gentleman  Mr.  Barlow  is,"  said 
Evelyn,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  I  have  found  him  an  excellent  friend.  He  won't 
allow  any  of  us  to  drink  or  gamble  while  we  are  in 
his  employ." 

"  I  hope  you  wouldn't  want  to  do  either,  Mr.  Wat- 
Bon." 

"  I  have  no  disposition  to  do  so.  But,  Miss  Eve 
lyn,  I  want  to  ask  you  a  favor." 

"  What  is  it  ?  If  it  isn't  anything  very  great,  I  may 
grant  it." 

"  Don't  call  me  Mr.  Watson." 

"What  shall  I  call  you  then?" 

"  My  friends  call  me  Kit." 

"  That's  a  nice  name.    Yes,  I'll  call  you  Kit." 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  two  young  people  were 
getting  on  famously. 

"  Do  you  live  far  away,  Miss  Evelyn  ?  " 

"About  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  here." 


KIT'S   DARING  ACT.  113 

In  turning  the  corner  of  a  street,  Kit  met  his 
friend  Hany  Thorne,  walking  with  Charlie  Davis. 
Both  regarded  Kit  with  surprise. 

"  Kit  seems  to  be  getting  on,"  said  Charlie.  "  Do 
you  know  who  he  is  walking  with  ?  " 

"  No ;  do  you  ?  " 

"  With  the  daughter  of  the  mayor." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  The  gentleman  in  front  was  pointed  out  to  me  as 
the  mayor.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  he  were  going  to 
dine  there." 

When  Kit  returned  to  the  circus  tents  about  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  he  met  with  some  good-na 
tured  raillery  which  he  took  in  good  part.  He  felt 
that  he  had  passed  the  day  in  a  much  more  satisfac 
tory  manner  than  if,  like  the  great  majority  of  his 
companions,  he  had  risen  late  and  lounged  about  the 
circus  grounds,  beguiling  the  time  with  smoking  and 
story  telling. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

KIT'S  DARING  ACT. 

KIT'S  acts  thus  far  had  been  confined  to  the  ring, 
but  now  a  new  one  was  expected  from  him.  Early 
in  the  performance  a  series  of  flying  leaps  from  a 
springboard,  in  which  all  the  acrobats  took  part,  was 
introduced.  From  a  point  thirty  feet  back  the  per 
former  ran  swiftly  till  he  reached  the  springboard, 
from  which  a  leap  was  made  accompanied  by  a  somer 
sault,  carrying  him  over  a  considerable  space  in  ad 
vance. 

It  was  the  custom  to  place  first  one  elephant,  then 
8 


114  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

a  second,  and  finally  a  third,  in  front  of  the  spring 
board.  There  was  only  one  man  who  could  leap 
over  three  elephants.  The  two  Vincenti  brothers 
took  part  regularly,  but  Kit,  being  a  new  hand,  had 
thus  far  been  excused.  But  one  of  the  regular  per 
formers  being  temporarily  unwell,  it  was  considered 
desirable  that  his  place  should  be  supplied. 

"  Do  you  think  you  can  do  it  ?  "  asked  Alonzo  Vin 
centi,  somewhat  doubtfully. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Kit,  confidently. 

"  It  will  be  sufficient  if  you  jump  over  one  ele 
phant,"  continued  his  associate.  "  Then  you  can 
drop  out." 

"  I  can  do  better  than  that,"  said  Kit. 

"  I  don't  know  about  that.  My  brother  can  only 
jump  over  two." 

"  You  jump  over  three  elephants." 

"  Yes ;  but  I  am  the  only  one  who  can  do  it.  It 
takes  a  good  spring  to  clear  even  two.  It  won't  do 
to  lose  your  head." 

"  Can  I  have  a  chance  to  rehearse  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  will  speak  about  it." 

"  Then  I  will  appear  this  evening." 

"  But  if  you  fail  you  are  likely  to  hurt  yourself." 

"  I  know  that.  That  is  why  I  would  rather  make 
the  first  trial  in  the  evening.  The  lights  and  the 
crowd  will  excite  and  help  me." 

Kit  was  not  foolhardy  in  his  undertaking,  for  he 
had  already  had  some  practice  in  similar  feats  with 
his  old  teacher.  Besides,  he  was  ambitious.  In 
school  his  ambition  had  shown  itself  in  his  attempt 
to  eclipse  his  schoolfellows  in  scholarship.  In  the 
gymnasium  he  had  ranked  first,  and  now  that  he 
had  joined  the  circus  he  didn't  like  to  be  assigned  to 
a  place  in  the  rear. 


KIT'S   DARING  ACT.  11$ 

Let  me  take  the  opportunity  here  to  advise  my 
young  readers  not  to  imitate  Kit  in  essaying  danger 
ous  parts.  "  Be  bold,  but  not  too  bold !  "  is  a  very 
good  motto. 

During  the  forenoon  Kit  found  an  opportunity  to 
practice  in  the  empty  tent,  in  order  to  settle  the  ques 
tion  whether  he  had  lost  any  of  his  old-time  skill. 
The  result  was  satisfactory,  and  renewed  his  con 
fidence. 

"  I  can  do  better  before  a  tent  full  of  spectators 
than  when  practicing  by  myself/7  he  decided. 

The  evening  came. 

Standing  near  the  ticket  seller  half  an  hour  before 
the  show  began,  Kit  heard  his  name  called. 

Turning  quickly  he  saw  his  friends  of  the  previous 
day,  Mayor  Grant  and  his  daughter  Evelyn. 

"  Good  evening,  my  boy ! "  said  the  mayor  cor 
dially.  "  We  have  come  to  see  what  you  can  do." 

"  Then  I  hope  I  shall  do  myself  credit,"  said  Kit, 
shaking  hands  with  the  mayor  and  his  daughter. 
"  Have  you  engaged  seats  ?  " 

"  Not  yet/' 

"  Then  let  me  select  them  for  you." 

"With  pleasure.  I  am  glad  to  have  a  friend  at 
court.'" 

Kit  selected  seats  as  near  as  possible  to  the  ring 
where  he  was  to  perform. 

"  These  are  splendid  seats,"  said  Evelyn.  "  How 
soon  do  you  appear  ?  " 

"  In  a  few  minutes.  I  shall  have  to  leave  you  now, 
but  I  will  be  back  after  my  first  act." 

"  What  a  nice  boy  he  is,  papa !  "  said  Evelyn. 

"  Yes ;  it  is  a  pity  he  is  attached  to  a  circus." 

"  Why  ?    Isn't  it  a  respectable  business  ?  " 

"Yes;  but  there  are  many  temptations  connected 


Il6  THE   YOUNG   ACROBAT. 

with  it,  and  most  circus  performers  never  rise  any 
higher/7 

Evelyn  was  not  inclined  to  discuss  the  question, 
though  there  is  no  doubt  that  she  took  a  more  favor 
able  view  of  the  circles  profession  than  her  father. 
rj|?he  procession  had  just  begun  to  move  round  the 
inner  ring  of  the  circus,  including  the  elephants,  tjie 
iriders,  the  clowns,  a,nd  performers  of  all  kinds.  Kit 
appeared,  as  in  the  public  procession,  driving  a  span 
:©f  ponies. 

This  was  the  introduction.  Then  tjie  various  parts 
of  the  programme  succeeded.  Soon  Kit  performed 
}ris  act  in  the  ring.  He  had  a  new  act  to-night. 
Standing  on  \he  shoulders  of  one  of  the  Vincenti 
brothers,  he  turned  a  somersault  and  landed  on  the 
shoulders  of  the  other,  standing  six  to  eight  feet  away. 

"  I  don't  see  how  he  does  it,  papa,"  said  Evelyn. 
"  He  must  be  very  smart." 

"  1  see  you  are  determine^  to  make  a  hero  of  this 
young  man,  ^velyn." 

"  Don't  you  admire  him  yourself ,  papa  ?  " 

"  Admire  is  rather  a  strong  word,  daughter.  I  will 
admit,  however,  that  I  like  him,  and  hope  he  will 
soon  change  Iris  business." 

After  the  act  was  over,  Kit  came  round  and  re 
ceived  congratulations.  JSvelyn  repeated  what  her 
father  said. 

"  I  agree  with  you,  sir,"  said  Kit,  "  I  haven't  se 
lected  this  as  my  life  business,  but  shall  keep  my  en 
gagement  tiji  the  en4  of  \he  season." 

"  How,  on  the  wjiole,  cjo  you  like  your  new  asso 
ciates?  |  don't  need  to  be  told  that  tfrey  are  very 
different  from  those  tq  whom  you  are  accustomed." 

"  They  are  very  kind  to  me,  and  generous  to  each 
other  when  there  is  need.  They  will  4iyi4e  their  last 
dollar  with  a  friend." 


KIT'S  DARING  ACT.  I  if 

"  They  often  come  to  their  last  dollar,  don't  they  ?  " 

"Yes;  they  can't  keep  money.  They  are  always 
in  debt  when  the  new  season  opens,  no  matter  how 
much  they  brought  home  with  them  at  the  end  of  the 
last." 

"  Are  there  no  exceptions  ?  " 

"  Yes,  a  few.  I  have  heard  of  one  circus  manager 
who  commenced  as  a  candy  butcher,  and  now  is  pro 
prietor  of  a  very  fair-sized  show.  Of  course  he  had 
to  save  up  money  or  he  would  never  have  succeeded 
so  well." 

Kit  had  to  cut  short  his  visit,  for  the  new  act,  al 
ready  referred  to,  was  near  at  hand. 

In  the  list  of  leapers  Kit  came  last.  First  of  all, 
there  was  a  simple  somersault  from  the  springboard. 
This  was  easy.  Just  after  Kit  came  the  clown,  who, 
though  really  a  clever  acrobat,  stopped  short  when 
he  came  to  the  board  and  merely  jumped  up  and  down 
to  the  amusement  of  the  young  spectators. 

"  He  can't  jump  no  more'n  I  can,"  said  one  small 
boy,  contemptuously. 

"  I  shouldn't  think  they'd  let  him  try,"  said  an 
other. 

Both  boys  were  surprised  when,  in  the  next  trial, 
where  the  task  was  to  jump  over  an  elephant,  the 
despised  clown  made  a  good  spring  and  landed  fair 
ly  on  his  feet 

"  I  guess  he  was  afraid  before,"  said  the  first  bo}r. 

"  No;  he  only  pretended  for  fun.  Do  you  see  that 
boy  ?  I  wonder  if  he  can  jump  over  the  elephant." 

The  question  was  soon  answered.  Kit  took  his 
turn  and  sprang  with  apparent  ease  over  the  great 
beast. 

Next  another  elephant  was  driven  in  alongside  of 
the  first.  Again  the  leapers  advanced  to  try  their. 


Il8  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

skill.  But  two  held  back,  not  feeling  competent  for 
the  task.  The  clown  once  more  made  a  feint  of 
jumping,  but  only  jumped  up  and  retired  apparent 
ly  filled  with  confusion. 

Evelyn  gazed  in  intense  excitement. 

"  It  must  be  awfully  hard  to  jump  like  that,  papa/' 
she  said. 

"  I  don't  think  I  shall  ever  try  it,  Evelyn." 

Another  elephant  was  driven  alongside  the  other 
two,  making  three  in  all.  The  other  contestants  re 
tired,  for  only  Alonzo  had  succeeded  hitherto  in  ex 
ecuting  this  difficult  feat.  He  expected  to  be  the 
only  one  now,  but  noticed  with  surprise  that  Kit 
seemed  ready  to  follow  him. 

"  You  don't  mean  to  try  it,  Kit  ? "  he  said,  in 
amazement. 

"Why  not?" 

"  You  will  fail,  and  if  you  do,  you  may  hurt  your 
self  seriously." 

"  I  shall  not  fail,"  said  Kit,  confidently. 

Alonzo  looked  anxious,  but  there  was  no  time  to 
expostulate.  He  ran  swiftly  to  the  board,  made  a 
vigorous  spring,  and  landed  handsomely  on  the  bed 
ding  which  had  been  provided  beyond.  He  had 
scarcely  stepped  aside,  when,  to  the  astonishment  of 
the  other  acrobats,  Kit  gathered  himself  up,  ran  to 
the  springboard,  and  exerting  himself  to  the  utmost, 
made  his  leap,  and  landed  a  foot  ahead  of  Alonzo. 

Then  the  tent  rang  with  applause,  and  there  were 
many  exclamations  of  astonishment,  not  only  among 
the  spectators,  but  also  among  the  circus  performers. 

Kit's  face  flushed  with  pleasure,  and  bowing  his 
acknowledgments,  he  withdrew. 

"  He  is  certainly  a  wonderful  boy,"  said  the  mayor. 


KIT   RECEIVES   A   LETTER.  119 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

KIT   RECEIVES   A   LETTER. 

KIT  received  compliments  enough  to  spoil  him,  if 
he  had  not  been  strong-minded  and  level-headed 
boy.  Among  others  Mr.  Barlow,  who  had  been  pres 
ent  and  witnessed  his  daring  act,  took  the  oppor 
tunity  to  congratulate  him. 

"  You  seem  to  be  born  for  a  circus  performer,  my 
young  friend,"  he  said.  "  You  have  come  to  the 
front  at  once." 

"  Thank  you,  sir/'  said  Kit.  "  I  am  glad  that  I 
succeeded,  but  such  success  as  that  does  not  satisfy 
my  ambition." 

"  You  mean,  perhaps,  that  you  want  to  jump  over 
four,  perhaps  five  elephants  ?  "  suggested  the  man 
ager. 

Kit  smiled. 

"  No,"  he  answered ;  "  I  don't  think  I  shall  ven 
ture  beyond  three.  But  I  don't  expect  to  remain  in 
the  circus  more  than  this  season." 

"  That  is  almost  a  pity,  when  you  are  so  well  quali 
fied  to  excel  in  it." 

"  Mr.  Barlow,"  said  Kit,  seriously,  "  if  I  were  a 
great  manager  like  you,  I  would  not  mind,  but  I 
don't  care  to  go  through  life  as  a  circus  performer." 

"  I  don't  know  but  you  are  right,  my  boy.  In  fact 
I  know  you  are.  I  shouldn't  care  to  be  a  performer 
myself."' 

f<  I  don't  think  you  would  excel  in  that  line,"  said 


120  THE   YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

Kit,  with  a  glance  at  the  portly  form  of  the  well- 
known  showman. 

"  You  wouldn't  advise  me  to  try  jumping  over  ele 
phants,  I  infer/'  said  Mr.  Barlow,  with  an  amused 
smile. 

"No,  sir." 

"I  will  take  your  advice,  my  boy.  Though  your 
share  of  worldly  experience  isn't  great,  you  are  cer 
tainly  correct  in  that.  I  shall  relieve  the  fears  of 
Mrs.  Barlow  at  once  by  telling  her  that  I  have  de 
cided  not  to  enter  the  ring." 

Kit  also  received  the  congratulations  of  the  mayor 
and  Evelyn,  but  the  former  added:  "Though  your 
act  was  a  daring  one,  I  was  almost  sorry  to  see  it." 

"Why,  sir?" 

"  I  feared  it  would  confirm  you  in  your  love  of  your 
present  business." 

"  No,  sir,  there  is  no  danger,"  replied  Kit.  "  I 
have  a  fair  education  already,  and  prefer  to  qualify 
myself  for  something  different." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  so.  You  are  undoubt 
edly  right." 

"  I  must  say  good-by  now/'  said  Kit ;  "  for  we  get 
off  at  midnight." 

"  Shall  you  not  return  this  way  ?  " 

"  No,  sir ;  we  are  to  go  West,  I  hear." 

"  I  hope  when  the  season  is  over,  you  will  make  us 
a  visit.  Come  and  stay  a  week,"  said  the  mayor, 
hospitably. 

"  Do  come,"  said  Evelyn,  earnestly. 

"  How  can  I  thank  you  for  your  kindness  to  a 
stranger  ?  "  said  Kit,  gratefully.  "  I  shall  certainly 
avail  myself  of  your  hospitality.  There  are  not  many 
who  would  take  such  notice  of  a  circus  boy." 

"  You  are  something  more  than  a  circus  boy,"  said 


KIT   RECEIVES   A   LETTER.  121 

the  mayor,  "or  I  might  not  have  been  so  drawn  to 
you.  Good-by,  then,  and  if  you  ever  need  a  friend, 
don't  forget  that  you  are  at  liberty  to  call  upon  me." 

It  was  a  source  of  regret  to  Kit  that  he  was  obliged 
to  part  with  friends  whom  in  so  short  a  time  he  had 
come  to  value  so  highly.  He  resolved  that  he  would 
accept  the  mayor's  offer  at  the  close  of  the  season. 
He  would  need  a  friend  and  adviser,  and  he  felt  con 
fident  that  Mayor  Grant's  counsel  would  be  wise  and 
judicious. 

Kit  was  already  asleep  in  his  bunk  when  the  circus 
train  started  for  the  next  place  on  the  route.  When 
he  woke  up  he  was  in  the  town  of  Colebrook.  Here 
a  surprise  was  in  store  for  him  in  the  shape  of  a  letter 
from  his  uncle.  When  he  saw  the  familiar  handwrit 
ing  and  the  postmark  "  Smyrna,"  he  broke  the  seal 
with  a  feeling  of  curiosity.  He  did  not  expect  to 
derive  either  pleasure  or  satisfaction  from  the  perusal. 

We  will  look  over  his  shoulder  while  he  is  reading 
the  letter. 

NEPHEW  CHRISTOPHER, — I  cannot  express  to  you  my 
surprise  and  disappointment  when  I  rode  over  to  Oakford 
to  see  you,  and  learned  from  Mr.  Bickford  that  you  had 
run  away  from  his  house  and  joined  the  circus.  There 
must  be  something  low  and  depraved  in  your  tastes,  that 
you  should  thus  abandon  the  prospect  of  earning  a  respect 
able  livelihood,  and  go  tramping  through  the  country  with 
a  circus.  What  do  you  think  your  father  would  say  if  he 
could  come  to  life,  and  become  aware  of  the  course  you 
have  so  rashly  taken  ? 

I  should  be  justified  in  forcibly  removing  you  from  your 
present  associations,  and  returning  you  to  your  worthy 
employer,  Mr.  Aaron  Bickford,  and  perhaps  it  is  my  duty 
to  do  so.  But  I  think  it  wiser  for  you  to  realize  for  your 
self  the  folly  of  your  course.  You  have  deliberately  de- 
revted  a  good  home  and  a  kind  guardian  and  become 
a  tramp,  if  I  may  so  express  myself.  I  cannot  imagine 
my  son  Ralph  doing  such  a  thing.  He  is,  I  hope,  too  duti- 


122  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

ful  and  too  sensible  to  throw  away  the  advantages  which 
fortune  has  secured  him,  to  become  a  mountebank. 

It  is  very  embarrassing  to  me  to  answer  questions  about 
you.  There  are  some  who  will  be  unjust  enough,  I  doubt 
not,  to  blame  me  for  your  wild  course,  but  I  shall  be  sus 
tained  by  the  consciousness  of  my  entire  innocence  in  the 
matter.  At  great  expense  I  have  maintained  you  and  paid 
the  cost  of  your  education,  giving  you  privileges  and  ad 
vantages  equal  to  those  I  have  given  my  own  boy.  I  have 
done  so  cheerfully,  because  you  were  my  nephew,  and  lam 
sorry  you  have  made  me  so  poor  a  return.  But  I  shall 
look  for  my  reward  to  my  own  conscience,  and  hope  you 
may  yet  see  the  folly  and  wickedness  of  your  course. 

I  have  only  to  add  that  when  that  time  comes  you  are 
welcome  to  return  to  my  roof  and  protection,  and  I  will 
intercede  with  your  excellent  employer,  Mr.  Bickford,  to 
take  you  back  and  teach  you  his  trade,  whereby  you  may 
be  enabled  to  earn  a  more  respectable  living  than  you  are 
doing  at  present.  Ralph  joins  with  me  in  this  wish. 

Your  uncle, 

STEPHEN  WATSON. 

Kit's  lip  curled  when  he  read  this  hypocritical  let 
ter,  and  was  tempted  to  despise  his  uncle  more  now 
than  ever.  He  lost  no  time  in  sending  this  reply : 

UNCLE  STEPHEN, — I  have  received  your  letter,  and  can 
only  express  my  surprise  at  the  view  you  take  of  your 
treatment  of  me.  Whether  my  father  really  left  me  as 
destitute  as  you  claim,  I  am  not  in  a  position  to  say.  If 
you  have  really  gone  to  personal  expense  in  maintaining 
and  educating  me  up  to  this  point,  I  shall,  when  I  am  able, 
reimburse  you  to  the  last  cent.  But  I  cannot  forgive  you 
for  your  trying  to  force  a  boy,  reared  and  educated  as  I 
have  been,  to  learn  the  trade  of  a  blacksmith.  You  say 
that  I  have  enjoyed  advantages  similar  to  those  of  your 
son  Ralnh.  I  wish  to  ask  whether  you  would  dream  of 
apprenticing  him  to  any  such  business. 

You  speak  of  my  low  associations,  and  call  me  a  mounte 
bank.  In  the  town  I  have  just  left  I  was  the  guest  of  the 
mayor,  and  have  promised  to  spend  a  week  at  his  house  on 
a  visit  when  the  circus  season  is  over.  Though  you  have 
done  your  best  to  lower  me  socially,  I  am  confident  that 


THE  ATTACK   ON  THE   CIRCUS  TENT. 

I  shall  be  able  to  win  a  good  place  by  my  own  unaided  ex 
ertions. 

I  have  no  intention  in  continuing  as  a  circus  performer, 
though  I  am  very  liberally  paid.  It  is  too  soon  for  me  to 
decide  upon  my  future  course,  but  you  may  tell  Mr.  Bick- 
ford  he  need  not  wait  for  me  to  resume  my  place  in  his 
shop. 

I  do  not  know  when  I  shall  see  you  or  Ralph  again,  but 
you  need  have  no  fear  that  I  shall  appeal  to  your  gener 
osity. 

Your  nephew, 

CHRISTOPHER  WATSON. 

Stephen  Watson  read  this  letter  with  surprise  and 
chagrin.  He  was  sorry  to  hear  that  Kit  was  doing 
so  well,  and  alarmed  at  his  implied  doubt  whether 
he  had  really  been  left  destitute  by  his  father. 

"  That  boy  is  going  to  give  me  trouble,"  he  mut 
tered. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE  ATTACK  ON  THE  CIRCUS  TENT. 

FOUR  weeks  passed,  in  which  Kit  continued  to  ac 
quit  himself  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  manager.  His 
youth  and  pleasant  face,  added  to  his  uncommon 
skill,  made  him  a  favorite  with  the  public,  and  being 
a  boy  with  a  love  of  adventure  he  enjoyed  thoroughly 
the  constant  variety  of  circus  life  and  travel. 

All  circus  existence  is  not  sunshine,  however.  There 
are  communities  which  are  always  dreaded  by  circus 
managers,  on  account  of  'cue  rough  and  lawless  ele 
ment  which  dominates  them. 

Early  ^e  morning  Barlow's  circus  arrived  at  the 
miring  town  of  Coalville  (as  we  will  call  it),  in 
Pennsylvania.  An  afternoon  performance  was  given, 


124  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

and  passed  off  smoothly;  but  in  the  evening  a  gang 
of  about  twenty  miners  made  their  appearance,  benc 
on  mischief. 

Mr.  Clark,  the  manager,  sought  Mr.  Barlow. 

"  I  think  we  shall  have  trouble  this  evening,  Mr. 
Barlow/'  he  said. 

"  Guard  against  it,  then.  What  indications  have 
you  seen  ?  " 

"  A  gang  of  twenty  miners  have  just  entered  the 
lot.  They  look  ugly." 

"  Itave  the  canvas  men  on  guard,  and  summon  the 
razorbacks,  if  necessary.  Don't  provoke  a  conflict, 
but  be  ready  for  one." 

Mr.  Clark  hastily  made  his  arrangements  as  quiet 
ly  as  possible.  Near  the  ticket  seller  lounged  a  body 
of  men,  strong  and  muscular. 

These  were  the  canvas  men.  Some  of  them  looked 
as  reckless  and  dangerous  as  the  miners,  from  whom 
a  disturbance  was  feared. 

These  canvas  men,  whose  duty  it  is  to  set  up  and 
take  down  the  tents,  are,  for  the  most  part,  a  rough 
set.  They  are  paid  from  fifteen  to  twenty  dollars  a 
month  and  board.  Their  accommodations  are  very 
poor,  but  as  good  perhaps  as  they  are  accustomed  to. 
They  are  not  averse  to  a  scrimmage,  and  obeyed  with 
alacrity  the  directions  of  Mr.  Clark. 

The  body  of  miners  marched  in  procession  to  the 
ticket  seller  and  then  halted,  one  serving  as  spokes 
man. 

"  Give  us  twenty  tickets,  boss,"  said  the  leader. 

"  Where  is  your  money  ?  "  asked  the  ticket  seller, 
cautiously. 

"  Never  you  mind !  We're  on  the  free  list,  ain't 
we,  boys  ?  " 

"  Yes,  we  are !  "  was  the  chorus  from  his  followers, 


THE   ATTACK   ON   THE   CIRCUS  TENT.      12$ 

"  There  are  no  deadheads  admitted  to  the  show," 
Baid  the  ticket  agent,  firmly. 

"  You'll  be  a  deadhead  yourself  if  you  ain't  care 
ful,  young  feller !  "  was  the  retort. 

"  Keep  back,  men !  There  are  others  waiting  for  a 
chance  to  buy  tickets." 

"  Let  'em  wait !  Just  hand  over  them  tickets,  or 
we'll  run  over  you." 

The  fellow  Jooked  so  dangerous  that  the  ticket 
seller  saw  there  was  no  time  to  parley. 

JJe  raised  the  well-known  circus  cry,  which  is  called 
out  in  times  of  danger,  like  a  summons  to  arms, 

"  Hey,  Rube  !  » 

Jnstantly  the  canvas  men  ^nd  razorbacks  rushed  to 
the  rescue,  and  made  an  impetuous  attack  on  the  dis 
orderly  crowd  of  miners.  They,  too,  were  aching  for 
a  fight,  and  there  was  a  wild  scene  of  battle,  in  which, 
as  in  the  ancient  days,  the  opposing  forces  fought 
hand  to  hand. 

The  canvas  men  were  strong,  but  so  were  the 
miners.  Their  muscles  were  toughened  by  daily  toil, 
and  it  looked  as  if  the  outsiders  might  win. 

Kit  was  not  of  course  called  upon  to  take  part  in 
the  contest,  but  he  was  unwillingly  involve^. 

Ong  of  the  miners  detached  himself  from  the  main 
body,  and  creeping  stealthily  to  the  big  tent,  whipped 
out  a  large  knife,  and  was  on  the  point  of  cutting  one 
qf  the  ropes,  his  intention  being  to  sever  one  after  an 
other  till  the  big  tent  collapsed.  Kit  saw  his  design, 
and  rushing  forward  seized  his  arm. 

"  Hold  on  there ! "  he  cried.  "  What  are  you 
about?* 

"  Let  me  ajone,  ancl  mind  your  own  business !  "  re 
turned  the  miner,  in  a  hoarse,  deep  voice. 

But  Kit  saw  that  it  was  a  critical  moment,  and  that 


126  THE   YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

great  mischief  might  be  done.  He  looked  about  him 
for  help,  for  he  was  far  from  able  to  cope  with  his 
brawny  antagonist.  Still  he  clung  to  the  arm  of  the 
intruder,  and  succeeded  in  delaying  his  purpose. 

"  Let  go  or  I'll  cut  you !  "  said  the  miner,  savagely. 

Then  Kit  in  desperation  raised  the  cry,  "  Hey, 
Eube ! " 

But  it  hardly  seemed  likely  to  bring  the  needed 
assistance,  for  all  the  fighting  men  were  engaged  in 
the  battle  near  the  ticket  seller. 

"  That  won't  do  no  good,  young  bantam ! "  said 
the  ruffian,  as  he  aimed  a  blow  at  our  hero. 

Kit's  career  would  in  all  probability  have  been  cut 
short,  but  for  the  timely  arrival  of  Achilles  Hender 
son.  The  giant  had  heard  the  boy's  warning  cry,  and 
being  near  at  hand,  rushed  to  his  aid.  His  arrival 
was  most  opportune.  He  seized  the  miner  in  his 
powerful  grasp,  and  the  ruffian,  strong  and  muscular 
as  he  was,  was  like  a  child  in  his  clutch.  His  knife 
fell  from  his  hand,  as  he  was  shaken  like  a  reed  by  the 
giant. 

"  Secure  the  knife,  Kit !  "  cried  Achilles. 

Kit  needed  no  second  bidding.  He  stooped  swiftly 
and  took  up  the  weapon. 

But  Achilles  was  needed  in  another  direction. 

The  contest  between  the  miners  and  the  canvas  men 
still  raged  fiercely  near  the  ticket  stand.  It  looked 
as  if  the  intruders  would  conquer.  From  the  ranks 
of  the  defenders  rose  a  wild  and  desperate  cry,  "  Hey, 
Rube!" 

Achilles  heard  it. 

"  Come,  Kit !  "  he  said.     "  We  are  wanted." 

He  hurled  the  miner  in  his  grasp  to  the  ground 
with  such  force  that  the  man  lay  senseless;  then  he 
rushed  with  all  the  speed  which  his  long  limbs  en 
abled  him  to  attain  to  the  scene  of  the  conflict. 


THE  ATTACK  ON  THE  CIRCUS  TENT.      I2/ 

Here  again  he  was  none  too  soon.  The  leader  of 
the  miners,  who  had  been  the  first  spokesman  and  ag 
gressor,  was  armed  with  a  powerful  club  with  which 
he  was  preparing  to  deal  the  ticket  seller  a  terrible 
and  possibly  fatal  blow,  when  Achilles  rushed  into 
the  melee  like  a  hurricane.  He  snatched  the  club 
from  the  hands  of  the  ruffian,  and  dealt  about  un 
sparingly. 

The  ringleader  was  the  first  to  fall.  Next  Achilles 
attacked  the  rest  of  the  brutal  gang,  till  half  a  dozen 
men  with  broken  heads  lay  upon  the  ground.  The 
attacking  force  were  completely  demoralized,  and  in 
dismay  fled  from  the  field. 

The  ticket  seller  breathed  a  s-igh  of  relief. 

"  I  thought  I  was  done  for,  Mr.  Henderson,"  he 
said,  when  the  giant  returned  flushed  with  his  exer 
tions.  "  You  are  equal  to  half  a  dozen  men/' 

"  I  haven't  had  so  much  exercise  in  a  long  time/' 
said  Achilles,  panting.  "  Kit,  where  is  the  knife 
that  scalawag  was  going  to  cut  the  rope  with  ?  " 

"  Here  it  is,  Mr.  Henderson." 

"  I  will  keep  it  in  remembrance  of  this  little  ad 
venture.  Perhaps  I  had  better  go  and  look  after  the 
original  owner." 

He  met  the  ruffian  limping  like  one  disabled.  His 
look  was  sullen  and  menacing. 

"  Give  me  my  knife,"  he  growled. 

"  I  couldn't  think  of  it,  my  man ! "  said  Achilles 
blandly.  "  Evidently  you  are  not  old  enough  to  bo 
trusted  with  a  knife." 

"  I'd  like  to  thrash  you  !  "  growled  the  miner  again. 

"  I've  no  doubt  of  it,  my  friend ;  your  intentions 
are  good,  but  can't  be  carried  out.  And  now  I  have  a 
word  to  say,"  he  continued,  sternly.  "Just  get  out 
of  the  lot  as  fast  as  your  legs  can  carry  you,  or  I'll 
serve  you  worse  than  I  did  before." 


128  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

The  ruffian  looked  toward  the  ticket  stand.  He 
saw  several  of  his  friends  limping  away  like  himself, 
looking  like  whipped  curs,  and  he  saw  that  there  was 
no  choice  for  him  but  to  obey.  With  a  muttered  oath 
and  a  sullen  scowl,  he  left  the  grounds. 

"  Kit,"  said  the  giant,  "  it  won't  do  for  me  to  exer 
cise  like  this  every  day.  I  shall  need  a  second  sup 
per." 

"You  are  certainly  entitled  to  one,  Mr.  Hender 
son,"  replied  our  hero. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

KIT      IS      MADE      A      PRISONER. 

IT  had  been  a  day  of  exciting  adventure,  but  so  far 
as  Kit  was  concerned  the  end  was  not  yet.  He  per 
formed  as  usual,  but  as  his  second  act  was  over  at 
quarter  past  nine,  he  thought,  being  fatigued,  that  he 
would  not  wait  until  the  close,  but  go  at  once  to  the 
circus  car  in  which  he  had  a  berth,  and  go  to  bed. 

He  crossed  the  lot,  and  emerged  into  the  street. 

It  was  moderately  dark,  there  being  no  moon,  and 
only  the  light  of  a  few  stars  to  relieve  the  gloom. 

Kit  had  not  taken  a  dozen  steps  from  the  lot  when 
two  stout  men  approached  him,  both  evidently  miners. 

"  Thats  the  kid  that  prevented  my  cutting  the 
rope,"  he  heard  one  say. 

"  Is  he  ?     I  saw  him  with  the  giant." 

"  I  mean  to  settle  his  hash  for  him,"  said  the  first. 

Kit  saw  that  he  was  in  danger,  and  turned  to  run 
back  to  his  friends.  But  it  was  too  late !  The  first 


KIT   IS   MADE  A   PRISONER.  129 

speaker  laid  a  strong  arm  upon  his  shoulder,  and  hi? 
boyish  strength  was  not  able  to  overcome  it. 

"  Don't  be  in  such  a  hurry,  kid,"  said  his  captor. 

"  Let  me  go,"  cried  Kit. 

"  You  belong  to  the  circus,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"What  do  you  do?" 

"  I  am  an  acrobat." 

"What's  that?" 

"  I  leap  and  turn  somersaults,  and  so  on." 

"  Yes,  I  know.     Do  you  remember  me  ?  " 

"  I  might  if  it  were  lighter." 

The  man  lit  a  match  and  held  it  close  to  hir>  face. 

"  Do  you  know  me  now  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"Who  ami?" 

"  You  are  the  man  who  tried  to  cut  the  ropes  of  the 
tent." 

"Eight  you  are.  I  would  Lave  succeeded  but  for 
you." 

"  I  suppose  you  would." 

"  Did  you  call  that  giant  to  pitch  into  me  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  didn't  know  he  was  near." 

"  He  treated  me  like  a  brute,"  said  the  man,  wrath- 
fully.  "  My  limbs  are  aching  now  from  the  fall  he 
gave  me." 

Kit  did  not  answer. 

"  I'd  like  to  give  him  a  broken  head,  as  he  gave 
some  of  my  friends.  Where  is  he  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  he  is  somewhere  in  th^  lot.  I'll  go  and 
call  him,  i"  you  want  me  to." 

"  That's  too  thin !  Now  I've  got  you  I  won't  let 
you  off  so  easy." 

"  What  do  you  intend  to  do  ?  "  asked  Kit  becoming 
alarmed. 


136  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  To  give  you  a  lesson." 

Kit  did  not  ask  what  kind  of  a  lesson  was  meant, 
but  he  feared  it  included  bodily  injury.  Then  at 
least,  if  never  before,  he  wished  himself  back  at  his 
uncle's  house  in  Smyrna,  uncongenial  as  it  was  other 
wise. 

The  first  speaker  spoke  in  a  low  voice  to  the  second. 
Kit  did  not  hear  the  words,  but  judged  what  they  were 
from  what  followed. 

The  two  men  placed  him  beside  them,  and  he  was 
sternly  ordered  to  move  on. 

They  kept  the  road  for  perhaps  half  a  mile,  then 
turned  off  into  a  narrow  lane  which  appeared  to  as 
cend  a  hill.  Finally  they  stopped  in  front  of  a  dark 
cabin,  of  one  story,  which  seemed  to  be  unoccupied. 
The  outer  door  was  fastened  by  a  bolt. 

One  of  the  men  drew  out  a  bolt,  and  threw  open 
the  door.  A  dark  interior  was  revealed.  One  of  the 
men  lit  a  match,  throwing  a  fitful  light  upon  an 
empty  room.  At  one  end  of  the  apartment  was  a 
ring,  fixed  in  a  beam,  and  in  the  corner  was  a  stout 
rope. 

"  That  will  do/'  said  the  first  speaker. 

He  took  the  rope,  secured  one  end  of  it  to  the  ring, 
and  then  tied  Kit  firmly  with  the  balance.  It  was 
long  enough  to  allow  of  his  lying  down. 

"  Now,"  said  the  first  man  grimly,  "  I  reckon  the 
kid  will  be  safe  here  till  to-morrow." 

They  prepared  to  leave  the  cabin. 

"  Are  you  going  to  leave  me  here  ?  "  asked  Kit,  in 
dismay. 

"  Yes." 

"  Wha+  good  will  it  do  you  ?  " 

"  You'll  see — to-morrow." 

Kit  had  ten  dollars  in  his  pocket,  and  he  thought  of 


KIT   IS   MADE  A   PRISONER.  131 

offering  it  in  return  for  his  freedom,  but  it  occurred 
to  him  fortunately  that  his  captors  would  deprive  him 
of  it,  as  it  was  quite  within  their  power  to  do,  and 
not  compensate  him  in  any  way.  He  understood  by 
this  time  the  character  of  the  Hien  into  whose  hands 
he  had  fallen,  and  he  thought  it  prudent  to  remain 
silent. 

As  the  first  captor  stood  with  the  door  open,  while 
just  on  the  point  of  leaving,  he  said  grimly,  "  How 
do  you  like  it,  kid?" 

"  Not  at  all,"  answered  Kit. 

"  If  you  beg  my  pardon  for  what  you  did,  I  might 
let  vou  go." 

Sit  did  not  believe  this,  and  he  had  no  intention  of 
humiliating  himself  for  nothing. 

"  I  only  did  my  duty,"  he  said.  "  I  have  nothing 
to  ask  pardon  for." 

"  You  may  change  your  mind — to-morrow !  " 

Another  ominous  reference  to  to-morrow.  Evident 
ly  he  was  only  deferring  his  vengeance,  and  intended 
to  wreak  it  on  his  young  prisoner  the  next  day. 

It  was  not  a  comforting  thought,  nor  was  it  calcu 
lated  to  sooth  Kit,  weary  as  he  was,  to  sleep. 

The  door  was  closed,  and  Kit  heard  the  sliding  of 
the  bolt  on  the  outside.  He  was  a  prisoner,  securely 
enough,  and  with  small  chance  of  rescue. 

Now,  though  Kit  is  my  hero,  I  do  not  mean  to 
represent  him  as  above  human  weakness,  and  I  won't 
pretend  that  he  didn't  feel  anxious  and  disturbed. 
His  prospects  seemed  very  dark.  He  could  not  hope 
for  mercy  from  the  brutal  men  who  had  captured  him. 
As  they  could  not  get  hold  of  the  giant  they  would 
undoubtedly  seek  to  make  him  expiate  the  offenses  of 
Achilles  Henderson  as  well  as  his  own. 

"  If  only  Mr.  Henderson  knew  where  I  was/'  he 
said  to  himself,  "  I  should  soon  be  free." 


132  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

But  there  seemed  little  hope  of  this.  He  had  not 
told  any  one  that  he  intended  to  retire  to  the  circus 
cars  earlier  than  usual.  The  chances  were  that  he 
would  not  be  missed  till  the  circus  company  had 
reached  the  next  town  on  their  route,  ten  miles  away. 
Then  there  would  be  no  clew  to  his  whereabouts,  and 
even  if  there  were  he  might  be  killed  before  any  help* 
could  come  to  him.  So  far  as  he  had  been  able  to 
observe,  the  miners  were — a  portion  of  them,  at  least 
— a  lawless  set  of  men,  who  were  not  likely  to  be  in~ 
fluenced  by  considerations  of  pity  or  ordinary  human- 
ity. 

Kit  had  been  very  religiously  brought  up  during 
his  father's  life,  at  least,  and  he  had  not  lost  his  faith 
in  an  overruling  Providence.  So  in  this  great  peril 
it  was  natural  for  him  to  pray  to  God  for  deliverance 
from  danger.  When  his  prayer  was  concluded,  he 
felt  easier,  and  in  spite  of  his  disagreeable  surround 
ings  he  managed  to  fall  asleep. 

Meanwhile  the  circus  performance  terminated,  and 
preparations  were  commenced  for  the  journey  to  the 
next  town.  The  canvas  men  swarmed  around  the 
tents  and  swiftly  took  them  down  and  conveyed  them 
to  the  freight  cars,  where  they  assisted  the  razorbacks 
to  pack  them  in  small  compass. 

Harry  Thome,  who  had  his  berth  next  to  Kit, 
turned  in  rather  late.  He  looked  into  Kit's  bed,  and 
to  his  surprise  found  it  unoccupied. 

"  What  can  have  become  of  the  boy  ?  "  he  asked 
himself. 

He  went  outside,  and  espying  Achilles  Henderson, 
he  said :  "  Have  you  seen  anything  of  Kit  Watson  ?  " 

"Isn't  he  in  his  berth?''  asked  Mr.  Henderson, 
surprised, 

"No/1 


A  MINER'S  CABIN.  133 

Inquiry  developed  the  fact  that  Kit  had  not  been: 
seen  by  any  one  since  the  conclusion  of  his  act. 

"  I  am  afraid  the  boy  has  come  to  harm/'  said 
Achilles.  "  This  is  a  rough  place,  and  there  are 
plenty  of  tough  characters  about,  as  our  experience 
this  afternoon  showed." 

"  Wha.t  shall  we  do  ?  The  cars  will  soon  be  start 
ing,  and  we  must  leave  him  behind." 

"  If  he  doesn't  show  up  before  that  time,  I  will  stay 
behind  and  hunt  him  up.  He  is  too  good  a  boy  to  be 
left  to  his  fate." 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 
A  MINER'S  CABIN. 

KIT'S  principal  captor  was  known  as  Dick  Hay'den. 
He  was  an  Englishman,  and  a  leader  in  every  kind  of 
mischief.  If  there  was  any  disturbance  between  the 
miners  and  their  employers,  he  was  generally  found 
to  be  at  the  bottom  of  it.  A  naturally  quarrelsome 
disposition  was  intensified  by  intemperance.  In  the 
attack  upon  the  circus  tents  he  found  himself  in  his 
element.  His  ignominious  defeat  made  him  ugly 
and  revengeful. 

His  wife  was  dead,  but  he  had  one  child,  Janet,  a 
girl  of  thirteen,  who  cooked  for  him  and  took  care  of 
his  cabin.  The  poor  girl  had  a  hard  time  of  it,  but 
she  endeavored  so  far  as  possible  to  avoid  trouble  with 
her  brutal  parent. 

It  was  near  ten  o'clock  when  Hayden  came  home 
after  locking  Kit  in  the  deserted  cabin.  He  had 
gone  away  without  supper,  but  late  as  it  was,  Janet 
had  something  hot  ready  for  him  on  the  stove. 


134  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  Well,  Janet,  child,  have  you  my  supper  ready  ?  " 
he  said,  not  unpleasantly,  for  his  victory  over  Kit  and 
the  meditated  revenge  of  the  next  day  had  put  him  in 
good  humor. 

"Yes,  father;  it's  on  the  stove  and  ready  to  dish 
up." 

"Lay  the  table,  then,  for  I'm  main  tired  and 
hungry." 

The  little  girl  quickly  spread  the  cloth,  and  Dick 
Hayden  ate  like  a  voracious  animal. 

When  supper  was  over  he  sat  back  in  his  chair  and 
lit  a  pipe.  A  comfortable  supper  made  him  loqua 
cious. 

"  Well,  Janet,  you  don't  ask  where  I've  been." 

"  Was  it  to  the  circus,  father  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  How  did  you  like  the  show  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  see  it,"  he  growled,  a  frown  gathering  up 
on  his  brow. 

"And  why  not,  father?" 

"  Because  we  had  a  fight  to  get  in  free,  and  got  the 
worst  of  it." 

"  They  must  be  main  strong,  then,  those  circus 
men." 

"  Strong !  "  repeated  Hayden,  scornfully.  "  Well, 
mayhap  they  are,  but  we'd  have  bested  them  but  for 
the  giant." 

"  The  giant !  Is  it  the  big  man  I  saw  in  the 
parade  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  he's  as  strong  as  three  men.  He  flung  me 
down  as  easily  as  I'd  throw  a  boy." 

"  Then  he  must  have  been  strong,  for  you're  a 
powerful  man,  father." 

"  There  isn't  a  man  as  works  in  the  mine'll  com 
pare  with  me,  lass,"  said  Hayden,  proudly ;  "  but  al] 
the  same  I'm  no  match  for  a  monster." 


135 

"  Tell  me  about  it,  father/'  said  Janet,  with  natural 
curiosity. 

Dick  Hayden  went  on  to  describe  the  fight  around 
the  ticket  stand,  and  how  he  had  slipped  away,  in 
tending  to  cut  the  ropes  of  the  tent  and  let  it  down 
on  the  heads  of  the  spectators  gathered  inside. 

"  I'd  have  done  it,  too,"  he  added,  "  but  for  a  kid." 

"  I  thought  just  now  you  said  it  was  the  giant." 

"  And  I  stick  to  it,  lass ;  but  this  boy  saw  what  I 
was  doing,  and  brought  the  giant  to  the  spot.  I 
could  do  nothing  after  that.  He  threw  me  down,  so 
that  for  a  few  minutes  I  was  stunned." 

"  And  how  did  the  fight  come  out  at  the  ticket 
stand,  father?" 

"  Our  men  had  almost  overpowered  the  circus  men, 
when  the  giant  rushed  into  the  midst,  and,  seizing  a 
club  from  Bob  Stubbs,  laid  about  him,  till  half  a 
dozen  of  our  strongest  men  lay  on  the  ground  with 
broken  heads." 

What  puzzled  Janet  was,  that  her  father  should 
have  come  home  in  such  good  humor  after  so  disas 
trous  a  defeat.  It  was  contrary  to  her  experience  of 
him.  She  would  naturally  have  expected  that  he 
would  be  surly  and  quarrelsome.  The  mystery  was 
soon  made  clear. 

"  But  we've  got  even  with  them !  "  chuckled  Hay- 
den  directly  after. 

"How  is  that,  father?" 

"  We  caught  the  kid." 

"  You  have  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  he  was  goin'  to  the  circus  cars  to  turn  in 
when  Stubbs  and  I  caught  him." 

"  You — you  didn't  kill  him,  father  ?  "  asked  Janet 
in  alarm. 

w  No,  not  yet," 


136  THE   YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"Where  is  he?" 

"  Do  you  mind  the  deserted  cabin  on  Knob  Hill  ?  " 

"  Yes,  father." 

"  He's  locked  up  in  that,  tied  hand  and  foot." 

"  How  long  do  you  mean  to  keep  him  there  ? " 
asked  Janet,  anxiously. 

"  Till  to-morrow,  and  then "  Dick  paused 

ominously. 

"Well,  and  then?" 

"  He'll  be  lucky  if  he  gets  off  with  a  whole  skin," 
growled  her  father.  "  But  for  him  I'd  have  brought 
down  the  tent  about  the  ears  of  the  people  that  sat 
inside,  and  we'd  have  had  a  fine  revenge  on  the  show 
men." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  kill  the  boy,  do  you,  father  ?  " 

"  What  is  it  to  you,  lass  ?  You'd  best  mind  your 
own  business.  You've  got  nothing  to  do  with  it." 

"  How  does  the  boy  look  ?  Was  it  the  one  that 
drove  the  first  chariot,  father  ?  " 

"  Like  enough,  lass !     Did  you  see  him  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  saw  the  parade.  Everybody  was  out  in 
the  streets  then." 

"  And  you  took  partic'lar  notice  of  the  boy  ?  That's 
like  a  lass,"  chuckled  Hayden. 

"  But  it  was  his  duty,  father,  to  stand  by  the  show, 
seein'  he  belongs  to  it." 

"  I  don't  trouble  myself  about  that.  He  brought 
that  monster  on  me,  and  I'm  sore  yet  with  the  fall  he 
gave  me.  I'll  take  it  out  of  the  kid." 

"  But  it  seems  to  me,  father,  it  would  be  better  to 
lay  for  the  giant." 

"What  folly  is  that,  lass?  I'd  be  main  glad  to 
give  the  giant  a  dose  of  what  he  gave  me,  but  he'll 
leave  town  to-night,  and  I  ain't  big  enough  to  tackle 
him,  even  if  I  had  the  chance.  So  I'll  revenge  my- 


A   MINER'S   CABIN.  137 

self  on  his  friend,  the  boy.  The  kid  may  be  his  son, 
for  aught  I  know." 

"  And  what  will  you  do  for  him,  father  ?  "  asked 
Janet,  pertinaciously.  "  You  won't  kill  him  ?  " 

"  Welly  I  won't  go  so  far  as  that,  for  I've  no  mind 
to  put  my  neck  in  a  noose,  but  I'll  nog  him  within  an 
inch  of  his  life.  I'll  teach  him  to  mind  his  own 
business  for  the  future." 

Janet  knew  her  father's  strength  and  brutality, 
and  she  shuddered  at  the  idea  of  the  boy  being  ex 
posed  to  it.  She  knew  very  well  it  would  be  of  no  use 
to  make  a  protest.  She  would  only  get  herself  into 
trouble.  Yet  she  couldn't  reconcile  herself  to  the 
thought  of  poor  Kit  being  cruelly  punished.  She 
asked  herself  what  she  could  do  to  prevent  it. 

There  was  one  thing  in  favor  of  a  rescue.  She 
knew  where  Kit  was  confined.  If  it  were  not  so  late 
she  would  steal  out,  and  going  to  the  cabin  relieve 
him  from  capitivity.  But  it  was  too  late,  and  too 
dark  for  that.  Besides,  she  could  not  leave  her 
father's  cabin  without  observation. 

"  I  will  wait  till  to-morrow  morning,"  she  said  to 
herself. 

It  so  chanced  that  on  account  of  some  slight  re 
pairs  the  mine  in  which  her  father  was  employed  was 
shut  down  for  a  few  days.  This  was  favorable,  for 
he  would  lie  in  bed  till  eight  o'clock  at  least,  and 
there  would  be  a  chance  to  get  out  without  observa 
tion. 

The  next  morning,  about  five  o'clock,  Janet  rose 
from  her  bed,  hastily  dressed  herself,  and  crept  to  the 
door  of  her  father's  chamber.  He  was  sound  asleep, 
and  breathing  heavily.  There  was  small  chance  of 
his  awakening  before  seven  o'clock. 

Janet  took  a  little  meat  and  bread  in  a  tin  pail,  for 


138  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

she  thought  the  captive  might  be  in  need  of  break 
fast,  and  then,  putting  a  sharp  knife  in  her  pocket  to 
cut  the  ropes  that  bound  him,  she  left  the  house  and 
took  her  way  over  the  hill  to  the  deserted  cabin  which 
served  as  Kit's  prison. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

KITRESCUEDBYAGIRL. 

KIT  had  succeeded  in  getting  a  little  sleep  during 
the  night,  but  his  position  was  necessarily  constrained 
and  he  was  but  very  slightly  refreshed.  Moreover 
he  was  a  prey  to  anxiety,  for  he  did  not  know  what 
fate  awaited  him  on  the  succeeding  day. 

At  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  a  little  light  found 
its  way  into  the  cabin  through  a  small  window  at  the 
rear.  The  other  windows  were  boarded  up. 

Kit,  appreciating  the  desirability  of  escaping  before 
a  visit  should  be  made  him  by  his  captors,  tried  hard 
to  work  himself  out  of  his  bonds,  but  only  succeeded 
in  confining  himself  more  closely  than  before. 

"  What  will  they  do  to  me  ?  "  he  asked  himself 
anxiously. 

He  Lad  heard  from  some  of  the  circus  men  accounts 
of  the  roughness  and  brutality  of  the  miners,  or  at 
least  of  a  certain  class  of  them,  for  some  were  quiet 
and  peaceable  men,  and  he  knew  that  there  was  no 
extreme  of  which  they  were  not  capable.  Life  is 
sweet,  and  to  a  boy  of  sixteen,  in  good  health  and 
strength,  it  is  especially  dear.  Suppose  he  should 
lose  his  life  in  this  region?  Probably  none  of  his 
friends  would  $w  learn  what  hacl  become  of  him* 


KIT  RESCUED  BY  A  GIRL.  139 

and  his  uncle  and  cousin  would  not  scruple  to  spread 
rumors  to  his  discredit. 

It  was  certainly  tantalizing  that  he  should  be  tied 
hand  and  foot,  utterly  unable  to  help  himself. 

More  and  more  light  crept  in  at  the  window,  and 
there  was  every  indication  of  its  being  a  glorious  day. 
But  this  prospect  brought  no  pleasure  to  poor  Kit. 

"Before  this  time  the  circus  people  must  have 
found  out  my  absence/'  he  thought.  "  Will  they  take 
the  trouble  to  look  for  me  ?  " 

Kit  was  on  good  terms  with  his  comrades,  indeed 
he  was  popular  with  them  all,  as  a  bright  boy  is  apt 
to  be,  and  he  did  not  like  to  think  that  no  effort  would 
be  made  to  find  him.  Still,  as  he  could  not  help  own 
ing  to  himself,  they  had  no  clew  that  was  likely  to 
lead  to  success.  He  had  given  no  one  notice  where 
he  was  going,  and  his  capture  was  not  likely  to  have 
been  observed  by  any  one. 

While  he  was  indulging  in  these  sorrowful  re 
flections,  his  attention  was  drawn  to  a  noise  at  the 
window. 

"  The  can't  have  come  back  so  early,"  he  said  to 
himself  in  surprise. 

He  twisted  himself  round  to  catch  a  glimpse,  if 
possible,  of  the  early  visitor,  and  to  his  delight,  he 
caught  a  partial  view  of  Janet's  dress.  Suppose  she 
should  prove  a  deliverer,  he  said  to  himself  with 
beating  heart. 

The  visitor,  whoever  it  was,  was  evidently  trying 
to  peer  into  the  cabin.  Kit  was  so  placed  in  a  cor 
ner  as  to  be  almost  out  of  sight  in  the  dark  interior. 
He  felt  that  he  must  attract  attention. 

"  Hallo,  there !  "  he  cried  in  a  loud  clear  voice. 

"He's  there!"  thought  Janet,  "just  as  father 
said." 


140  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  Let  me  out !  "  cried  Kit,  eagerly.  "  Draw  out  the 
bolt,  and  open  the  door !  " 

"  Will  she  do  it,  or  will  she  be  frightened  away  ?  " 
he  asked  himself,  with  his  heart  filled  with  suspense. 

He  did  not  have  long  to  wait  for  an  answer,  and  a 
favorable  one.  He  heard  the  bolt  withdrawn,  then 
the  door  was  opened,  and  the  girl's  face  appeared. 
Janet  Hayden  was  small,  not  especially  pretty,  and 
rather  old-fashioned  in  looks,  but  to  poor  Kit  she 
seemed  like  an  angel. 

"  Are  you  the  circus  boy  ?  "  she  asked  timidly. 

"  Yes ;  I  am  tied  here.  Have  you  got  a  knife  to 
cut  this  rope  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  brought  one  with  me." 

"  Then  you  knew  I  was  here  ?  "  Kit  asked  in  sur 
prise. 

"  Yes ;  it  was  my  father  that  locked  you  up  here — 
my  father  and  another  man." 

"  Will  you  cut  the  rope  and  let  me  go,  then  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  that  is  what  I  came  for." 

The  little  maid  went  up  to  the  captive,  bent  over, 
and  with  considerable  sawing,  for  the  knife  she  had 
with  her  was  a  dull  case  knife,  succeeded  in  severing 
the  rope,  and  Kit  was  able  to  rise  and  stand  upon  his 
feet.  It  was  a  perfect  luxury  to  feel  himself  once 
more  free  and  unshackled. 

"  I'm  very  much  obliged  to  you,"  he  said,  grate 
fully.  "  You  can't  imagine  how  stiff  I  am." 

"  I  should  think  you  would  be,"  said  Janet,  sym 
pathetically.  '* 

"  When  did  your  father  tell  you  that  I  was  here  ?  " 

"After  he  got  home  last  night.  It  was  after  he 
had  eaten  his  supper." 

"  And  where  is  he  now  ?  " 

"  At  home  and  asleep." 


KIT   RESCUED   BY   A   GIRL.  14! 

"  Does  he  get  up  early  ? "  asked  Kit,  in  some 
anxiety. 

"  Yes,,  when  he  is  at  work ;  but  the  mine  is  shut 
down  for  a  few  days,  so  he  lies  abed  longer." 

"  Did  he  say  anything  about  coming  here  to-day  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  meant  to  come — he  and  the  other  man — 
and  I  was  afraid  he  would  do  you  some  harm." 

"  He  would  have  done  so,  I  am  sure,"  said  Kit, 
shuddering.  "  I  don't  see  how  such  a  rough  father 
should  have  so  good  a  daughter." 

Janet  blushed,  and  seemed  pleased  with  the  com 
pliment. 

"  I  think  I  take  after  my  mother,"  she  said. 

"  Is  your  mother  alive  ?  " 

"  No,  she  died  two  years  ago,"  answered  Janet, 
sorrowfully.  "  She  was  Scotch,  and  that  is  why  I  am 
called  by  a  Scotch  name." 

"  What  is  your  name,  if  you  don't  mind  telling 
me?" 

"Janet.    I  am  Janet  Hayden." 

"  I  shall  always  remember  it,  for  you  have  done  me 
a  great  service." 

"  What  is  your  name  ?  "  asked  Janet,  feeling  less 
timid  than  at  first. 

"  Kit  Watson." 

"  That  is  a  funny  name — Kit,  I  mean." 

"  My  right  name  is  Christopher,  but  my  friends 
call  me  Kit.  Can  you  direct  me  to  the  next  town — • 
Groveton,  where  the  circus  shows  to-day." 

"  Yes,  if  you  will  come  outside,  I  will  point  out 
which  way  it  is." 

Kit  emerged  from  the  cabin,  nothing  loath,  and 
Janet  pointed  in  a  westerly  direction. 

"  You  go  over  the  hill,"  she  said,  "  and  you  will 
come  to  a  road.    You  will  know  it,  for  near  the 
there  is  a  red  house," 


142  THE   YOUNG   ACROBAT. 

"  Thank  you.    How  far  is  it  to  the  next  town  ?  " 

"  Eight  miles,  I  believe." 

"  That  would  be  a  long  walk.  Do  you  think  I  could 
get  any  one  to  take  me  over  in  a  wagon  ?  " 

"  I  think  the  man  v:ho  lives  in  the  red  house,  Mr. 
Stover,  would  take  you  over,  if  you  pay  him." 

"  I  shall  be  glad  ito  pay  him,  and —  "  Kit  paused, 
for  he  felt  rather  delicate  about  offering  any  money 
to  Janet,  though  he  knew  she  had  rendered  him  most 
valuable  service.  "  Will  you  let  me  offer  you  a  little 
present  ?  " 

He  took  a  five  dollar  bill  from  his  pocket,  and 
offered  it  to  Janet. 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  It  is  a  five  dollar  bill." 

"  You  must  be  rich/'  she  said,  for  this  seemed  to 
her  a  great  deal  of  money. 

"  Oh,  no !  but  will  you  take  it  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  Janet,  shrinking  back,  "  I  didn't 
come  here  for  money," 

"  I  am  sure  you  didn't,  but  I  should  like  to  give  you 
something." 

"  No,  I  would  rather  not.  Besides,  if  father  knew 
1  had  money,  he  would  suspect  something,  and  beat 
me." 

"  Like  the  brute  that  he  is,"  thought  Kit. 

"  But  I  must  go  at  once,  for  he  may  wake  up  and 
miss  me.  Good-by !  " 

"  Good-by !  "  said  Kit. 

He  had  no  time  to  say  more,  for  the  child  was 
already  hurrying  down  the  hill. 


JANET  MEETS  THE  GIANT.  143 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

JANET    MEETS    THE    GIANT. 

JANET  took  her  way  homewards,  hurrying  with 
quick  feet,  lest  her  father  should  wake  up  before  she 
arrived.  But  she  had  taken  so  early  a  start  that  she 
found  him  still  sleeping  soundly.  She  instantly  be 
gan  to  make  preparations  for  breakfast. 

By  the  time  it  was  on  the  table  her  father  woke  up 
and  yawned.  With  his  waking  there  came  the 
thought  of  his  young  circus  captive,  and  the  venge 
ance  he  intended  to  wreak  upon  him.  This  pleasant 
idea  roused  him  completely,  and  he  dressed  himself 
briskly. 

"  Is  breakfast  ready,  Janet  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  father." 

"What  time  is  it?" 

"  Seven  o'clock,"  answered  Janet,  looking  at  the 
clock  over  the  mantel. 

"  I  am  expecting  Bob  Stubbs  here  this  morning. 
Have  you  got  enough  for  him  ?  " 

"  I  think  so,  father,"  replied  Janet.  She  did  not 
speak  with  alacrity,  for  Mr.  Stubbs  was  no  favorite 
of  hers. 

At  that  moment  a  step  was  heard  at  the  door,  and 
the  gentleman  spoken  of  made  his  appearance. 

"  You're  late,  Dick,"  said  Stubbs,  rubbing  his 
bristling  chin. 

"  Yes,  I  got  tired  out  yesterday.  When  the  mine's 
shut  down  I  like  to  take  my  time.  Have  you  had 
breakfast,  Bob?" 


144  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"Ye-es,"  answered  Stubbs  hesitating,  as  lie 
glanced  at  the  neatly  spread  table,  with  the  eggs 
and  bacon  on  the  center  dish. 

"  Never  mind !  You  can  eat  some  more.  Put  a 
chair  for  him,  Janet." 

'•'  This  lass  of  yours  is  growing  pretty/'  said  Stubbs, 
with  a  glance  of  admiration. 

"  There's  a  compliment  for  you,  lass ! "  said  the 
father. 

Janet,  however,  did  not  appear  to  appreciate  it, 
and  continued  to  look  grave. 

"Wonder  how  the  kid's  getting  along,"  said  Bob 
Stubbs,  with  his  mouth  full  of  bacon. 

"  I  reckon  he's  hungry,"  said  Dick  Hayden,  in  a 
voice  of  satisfaction. 

"  Have  you  left  him  without  anything  to  eat, 
father?"  asked  Janet. 

"  Yes." 

'(  The  poor  fellow  will  be  starved." 

"  And  serves  him  right,  too.  There  ain't  no  call  to 
pity  him." 

"  Why  won't  you  take  him  some  breakfast  if  you're 
going  round  there?  I  will  put  some  up  in  a  tin 
pail." 

"What  do  you  say  to  that,  Bob,  hey?"  said  Hay- 
den. 

"  It's  natural  for  the  gal  to  pity  him.  He's  a  nice 
lookin'  chap  enough." 

"  He's  nicer  looking  than  he  will  be  when  we  get 
through  with  him,  eh,  Bob?  " 

"  That's  so,  Dick." 

As  Janet  listened  to  this  conversation,  her  heart 
revolted  against  the  brutality  conveyed  by  the  words. 
She  felt  dissatisfied  to  think  that  her  own  father  was 
such  a  man.  She  could  not  well  feel  an  affection  for 


JANET  MEETS  THE  GIANT.  145 

him,  remembering  how  ill  lie  had  treated  her  gentle 
mother,  who,  as  she  knew,  would  be  living  to-day  had 
she  been  wedded  to  a  better  husband. 

The  two  men  did  not  linger  long  at  the  table. 
They  were  accustomed  to  swallow  their  food  rapidly, 
in  order  to  get  to  the  scene  of  their  daily  labor  on 
time.  So  in  twenty  minutes  they  rose  from  the  table, 
and  putting  on  their  hats  left  the  cabin. 

As  they  departed  Janet  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief, 
and  congratulated  herself  that  she  had  released  the 
poor  boy,  and  so  saved  him  from  the  brutal  treat 
ment  he  was  likely  to  receive  at  the  hands  of  the  two 
miners. 

"  He  will  have  had  plenty  of  time  to  get  away 
before  father  and  Mr.  Stubbs  reach  the  cabin,"  she 
said  to  herself. 

Janet  washed  the  dishes,  and  then,  having  an  er 
rand  at  the  store,  put  on  her  hat  and  left  the  cabin. 
She  did  not  trouble  herself  to  lock  the  door,  for 
there  was  nothing  in  the  place  likely  to  excite  the 
cupidity  of  any  dishonest  person. 

Janet  had  accomplished  a  part  of  the  distance 
when  she  saw  approaching  her  a  figure  that  at  once 
attracted  her  earnest  attention. 

The  reason  will  be  readily  understood  when  I  say 
that  it  was  Achilles  Henderson,  the  circus  giant. 

'  Mr.  Henderson  had  been  exploring  the  neighbor 
hood  in  the  hope  of  finding  some  trace  of  Kit,  but 
thus  far  had  been  unsuccessful.  Tie  was  very  much 
perplexed,  having  absolutely  no  clew,  and  was  think 
ing  of  starting  for  Groveton,  where  the  circus  was 
billed  to  appear  that  evening.  He  was  walking  in 
an  undecided  way,  and  never  thought  of  noticing  the 
little  girl  who  stood  staring  at  him.  Indeed  he  was 
so  used  to  being  stared  at  that  he  took  it  as  a  mat- 
10 


146  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

ter  of  course,  and  did  not  think  of  giving  the  curious 
gazer  a  second  glance. 

But  his  attention  was  called  by  a  low,  half  fright 
ened  voice. 

"  Mr.  Giant !  " 

"  Well,  little  girl,  what  do  you  want  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Are  you  looking  for  anybody  ?  "  asked  Janet,  first 
glancing  carefully  around,  to  make  sure  that  she  was 
not  likely  to  be  overheard. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Achilles,  quickly.  "  I  am  look 
ing  for  a  boy." 

"  A  circus  boy  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  do  you  know  where  he  is  ?  " 

"  Come  nearer !  I  don't  want  anybody  to  hear 
what  I  say." 

"  All  right,  my  little  maid !  Is  the  boy  alive  and 
well?" 

"  Yes,  he  was  two  hours  ago." 

"  Where  is  he  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  where  he  is  now." 

Achilles  looked  disappointed. 

"  Tell  me  all  you  know,"  he  said. 

"  My  father  and  Bob  Stubbs  took  him  last  night, 
and  shut  him  up  in  a  lonely  cabin  on  the  hill." 

"  Where  is  the  cabin  ?  " 

"  He  isn't  there  now.    I  let  him  out." 

"  Good  for  you,  little  girl !  You're  a  trump. 
You're  a  great  deal  better  than  your  father.  Do  you 
know  where  the  boy  went  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell  }rou  where  I  told  him  to  go." 

"  Where  is  your  father  now  ?    Is  he  at  work  ?  " 

"  No ;  the  mine  is  shut  down." 

"  How  did  you  know  that  the  boy  was  in  the 
cabin?" 

"  I  heard  father  tell  where  he  was  last  night,  when 


JANET   MEETS   THE   GIANT.  147 

he  was  at  supper.  So  I  got  up  very  early,  and  stole 
out  to  release  him,  for  I  was  afraid  father  might  kill 
him.  He  said  he  meant  to  punish  him  for  what  you 
did.  He  said  he  would  rather  get  at  you." 

"  He's  quite  welcome  to,  if  he  wants  to/'  answered 
Achilles,  grimly.  "  On  the  whole  I  wouldn't  advise 
him  to  tackle  me." 

"  He  thought  you  had  gone  on  with  the  circus." 

"  I  should  have  done  so  if  I  hadn't  missed  Kit." 

"  Yes ;  he  told  me  his  name  was  Kit." 

" Was  he  tied?" 

"  Yes ;  I  took  a  knife  with  me  and  cut  the  ropes." 

"  The  poor  fellow  must  have  passed  an  uncom 
fortable  night." 

"  Yes,  he  said  so." 

"  He  must  have  been  very  glad  to  see  you." 

"  Yes,  he  was.    I  am  only  afraid  of  one  thing." 

"  What  is  that  ?  " 

"  Father  and  the  other  man  left  the  house  more 
than  half  an  hour  ago  to  go  to  the  cabin.  When  they 
find  him  gone,  they  will  be  very  angry." 

"  Like  as  not." 

"  And  I  think  they  will  try  to  find  him." 

"  Very  true ;  I  wish  I  knew  where  he  was.  They 
wouldn't  dare  to  attack  him  in  my  company." 

"  No,  Mr.  Giant.    You  must  be  very  strong." 

"  I  think  I  would  be  a  match  for  them." 

Achilles  questioned  Janet  minutely  as  to  the  advice 
she  had  given  Kit. 

"  I  might  follow  the  boy,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  at 
a  guess,  but  there's  only  half  a  chance  of  my  hitting 
right.  Where  is  the  cabin  ?  "  he  asked,  suddenly. 

Janet  pointed  in  the  proper  direction. 

<<  I  know  what  I'll  do,"  he  said,  with  sudden  de 
cision.  "  I'll  follow  your  father  and  the  other  man. 


148  THE   YOUNG   ACROBAT. 

All  the  danger  to  Kit  is  likely  to  come  from  them. 
If  I  can  get  track  of  them,  I  can  make  sure  that  no 
mischief  will  be  done." 

Achilles  Henderson  then  stepped  over  a  fence 
which  an  ordinary  man  would  have  had  to  climb,  and 
made  his  way  to  the  deserted  cabin. 


CSAPTEE  XXX. 

DICK  HAYDEN  FINDS  TllE  BIRD  FLOWN". 

HALF  an  hour  previously  Dick  Haydeii  and  his 
congenial  friend,  Bob  Stubbs,  reached  the  cabin. 
They  had  much  pleasant  and  jocose  conversation  on 
the  way  touching  their  young  captive,  and  how  he 
had  probably  passed  the  night.  They  had  personal 
injuries  to  avenge,  and  though  Achilles  was  respon 
sible  for  them,  they  proposed  to  wreak  vengeance 
on  the  boy  whom  a  luckless  fate  had  thrown  into 
their  hands. 

"  My  shoulders  are  sore  yet,"  said  Hayden,  "  over 
the  fall  that  big  brute  gave  me." 

"  And  my  head  liasn't  got  over  the  crack  1  got 
when  he  laid  me  flat  wim  his  club,"  responded 
Stubbs. 

"Well,  we've  got  a  friend  of  his,  that's. one  com 
fort.  I'm  going  to  take  it  out  of  the  kid's  hide." 

"  You  don't  mean  to — do  for  him  ?  "  said  Stubbs, 
cautiously. 

"  I  don't  mean  to  kill  him,  if  that's  what  you  mean, 
Stubbs.  I  have  too  much  regard  for  my  neck,  but  I 
mean  tp  give  him  a  sound  flogging.  You  ain't  afraid, 
be  you  ?  " 


DICK   HAYDEN   FINDS   THE   BIRD   FLOWN.      149 

"  Catch  Bob  Stubbs  afraid  of  anything,  except  the 
hangman's  rope !  I  don't  mind  telling  you  that  I 
have  reasons  to  be  afraid  of  that." 

"  Why  ?    You've  never  been  hung,  have  you  ?  " 

"  ISTo ;  but  an  uncle  of  mine  was  strung  up  in 
England." 

"What  for?" 

"  He  got  into  trouble  with  a  fellow  workman  and 
stabbed  him." 

"  He  was  in  bad  luck.  Why  didn't  he  cut  it,  and 
come  to  America  ?  " 

"  He  tried  it,  but  the  bobbies  caught  him  in  the 
steerage  of  an  ocean  steamer,  and  then  it  was  all  up 
with  him." 

"  Well,  I  hope  his  nephew  will  come  to  a  better 
end.  But  here  we  are  at  the  cabin." 

There  was  nothing  in  the  outward  appearance  of 
the  hut  to  indicate  that  the  bird  was  flown.  Janet 
bolted  the  door  after  releasing  the  prisoner,  and  no 
one  could  judge  that  it  had  been  opened. 

"  All  is  safe,"  said  Bob  Stubbs. 

"  Of  course  it  is  !    Why  shouldn't  it  be  ?  " 

"  No  reason ;  but  some  of  his  friends  might  have 
found  him." 

"  All  his  friends  are  at  Groveton.  Then  they  had 
no  idea  what  we  did  with  him." 

"  They  must  have  found  out  that  he  was  gone." 

"  They  couldn't  find  him,  so  that  would  do  him  no 
good." 

Stubbs  was  about  to  draw  the  bolt,  but  Hayden 
stayed  his  hand. 

"  Wait  a  minute,  Bob,"  he  said ;  «  I'll  look  in  at  the 
window,  and  see  what  he  is  doing." 

Dick  Hayden  went  around  to  the  rear  of  the  build 
ing,  and  flattened  his  face  against  the  pane  in  the 


ISO  THE   YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

effort  to  see  the  corner  where  the  captive  had  been 
tied.  He  could  not  see  very  distinctly,  but  what  he 
did  see  startled  him. 

He  could  perceive  no  one. 

"  Could  the  boy  have  loosened  the  rope  ?  "  he  asked 
himself  hurriedly. 

Even  in  that  case,  as  the  window  was  nailed  so  that 
it  could  not  be  opened,  and  the  door  was  bolted,  there 
seemed  no  way  of  escape.  His  eyes  eagerly  explored 
other  portions  of  the  cabin,  but  he  could  not  catch  a 
glimpse  of  Kit. 

He  rushed  round  to  the  front,  and  in  an  excite 
ment  which  Stubbs  could  not  understand,  pulled  the 
bolt  back  with  a  jerk. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Dick  ?  "  asked  Stubbs,  star 
ing. 

Dick  Hay  den  did  not  answer,  but  threw  open  the 
door. 

He  strode  in,  and  peeped  here  and  there. 

"  The  boy's  gone ! "  he  said  hoarsely,  to  Stubbs, 
who  followed  close  behind. 

"  Gone !  "  echoed  Stubbs,  in  blank  amazement. 
"  How  did  he  get  away  ?  " 

"  That's  the  question,"  responded  Dick,  growling. 

"  Well,  I'm— flabbergasted !  There's  witchery 
here ! " 

Dick  Hay  den  bent  over  and  picked  up  the  pieces 
of  rope  which  lay  in  the  comer  where  the  prisoner  had 
been  placed.  He  examined  the  ends,  and  said  briefly, 
turning  to  Stubbs :  "  They've  been  cut !  " 

"  So  they  have,  Dick.  Who  in  natur'  could  have 
done  it  ?  Perhaps  the  kid  did  it  himself.  Might  have 
had  a  knife  in  his  pocket." 

"  Don't  be  a  fool,  Stubbs !  Supposin'  he'd  done  it, 
how  was  he  goin'  to  get  out  ?  " 


DICK   HAYDEN   FINDS   THE   BIRD   FLOWN.      15! 

"  That's  what  beats  me !  " 

"  Somebody  must  have  let  him  out." 

"  Do  you  think  it's  his  circus  friends  ?  " 

"No;  they're  all  in  Groveton.  Somebody  must 
have  been  passin'  and  heard  the  boy  holler,  and  let 
him  out." 

"  What  are  you  goin'  to  do  about  it,  Dick  ?  " 

"  Goin'  to  sit  down  and  take  a  smoke.  It  may  give 
me  an  idea/' 

It  will  be  noticed  that  of  these  two,  Dick  Hayden, 
as  the  bolder  and  stronger  spirit,  was  the  leader,  and 
Bob  Stubbs  the  subservient  follower.  Stubbs  was  no 
less  brutal,  when  occasion  served,  but  he  was  not 
self  reliant.  He  wanted  some  one  to  lead  the  way, 
and  he  was  willing  to  follow. 

The  two  men  sat  down  beside  the  cabin,  and  lit 
their  pipes.  Nothing  was  said  for  a  time.  Dick 
seemed  disinclined  to  conversation,  and  Stubbs  was 
always  disposed  to  be  silent  when  enjoying  a  smoke. 

The  smoke  continued  for  twenty  minutes  or  more. 

Finally  Dick  withdrew  the  pipe  from  his  mouth. 

"  Well,  Dick,  what  do  you  think  about  it  ?  What 
shall  we  do  ?  "  inquired  his  friend. 

"  I  am  going  to  foller  the  kid." 

"  But  you  don't  know  where  he's  gone,"  replied 
Stubbs.  ' 

"No;  but  I  may  strike  his  track.  Are  you  with 
me?" 

"  Of  course  I  am." 

"  Then  listen  to  me.  The  one  that  let  the  boy  out 
knows  the  neighborhood.  The  boy  would  naturally 
want  to  go  to  Groveton,  and  likely  he  would  be  di 
rected  to  Stover.  If  the  kid  had  any  money,  he 
would  ask  Stover  to  drive  him  over,  or  else  he  would 
loot  it," 


152  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  You're  right,  'Dick.  That's  what  he'd  do,"  said 
Stubbs,  admiring  his  companion's  penetration. 

"  Then  we  must  go  over  to  Stover's." 

"  All  right !    I'm  with  you." 

"  I'm  a  poor  man,  Bob,  but  I'd  give  a  ten  dollar 
bill  to  have  that  kid  in  my  power  once  more." 

"  I  don't  doubt  it,  Dick." 

"  I  hate  to  have  it  said  that  a  kid  like  that  got  the 
advantage  of  Dick  Hayden." 

"  So  would  I,  Bob." 

"  If  I  get  hold  of  him  I'll  give  him  a  lesson  that  he 
won't  soon  forget." 

"  And  serve  him  right  too." 

The  two  men  rose,  and  took  their  way  across  the 
fields,  following  exactly  the  same  path  which  our 
hero  had  traveled  earlier  in  the  morning. 

They  walked  with  brisk  steps,  having  a  definite  pur 
pose  in  view.  Dick  Hayden  was  intensely  anxious  to 
recapture  Kit,  whose  escape  had  balked  him  of  his 
vengeance,  and  mortified  him  exceedingly.  As  he 
expressed  it,  he  could  not  bear  to  think  that  a  boy  of 
sixteen  had  got  the  advantage  of  him. 

At  length  they  reached  the  red  house  already  re 
ferred  to,  and  saw  Ham  Stover,  the  owner,  in  the 
yard. 

"  You  are  up  betimes,  Dick,"  said  Stover.  <s  What's 
in  the  wind  ?  " 

"  Have  you  seen  aught  of  a  boy  of  sixteen  passin' 
this  way  ?  "  asked  Dick,  anxiously. 

"  A  likely  lookin'  lad,  well  dressed?" 

"  Yes." 

"  He  was  round  here  an  hour  ago,  and  took  break 
fast  in  the  house." 

This  was  true;  the  slight  refreshment  Janet  had 
brought  him  having  proved  insufficient  to  completely 


IN  THE  ENEMY'S  HANDS.  153 

stay  the  cravings  of  Kit's  appetite  after  his  night  in 
the  cabin. 

"Where  is  he  now?" 

"  What  do  you  want  of  him  ?  " 

"  Never  you  mind — I'll  tell  you  bimeby.  Where  is 
he?" 

"  He  wanted  me  to  harness  up  and  take  him  to 
Groveton." 

Dick  Hayden  and  Stubbs  exchanged  glances.  It 
was  evident  that  they  had  struck  Kit's  trail. 

"Well,  did  you  do  it?" 

"  No ;  I  couldn't  spare  the  time.  Besides  I  wanted 
the  horse  to  go  to  the  village.  I'm  going  to  harness 
up  now." 

"What  did  the  boy  do?" 

"  He  walked." 

"  How  long  since  did  he  start  ?  " 

"  About  half  an  hour  or  thereabouts." 

Dick  Hayden  made  a  rapid  calculation. 

"  We  may  overtake  him  if  we  walk  fast,"  he  said. 

Without  stopping  to  enlighten  the  curiosity  of  Mr. 
Stover  the  two  men  set  out  rapidly  on  the  Groveton 
road. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

IN  THE  ENEMY'S  HANDS. 

MR.  STOVER  was  considerably  surprised  when 
twenty  minutes  later,  looking  up  from  his  work  in 
the  yard,  he  saw  a  man  of  colossal  size  crossing  the 
street.  He  hadn't  attended  the  circus,  and  had  not 
therefore  heard  of  the  giant,  who  was  one  of  its  prin 
cipal  features. 


154  THE   YOUNG   ACROBAT. 

"  Who  in  creation  can  that  be  ?  "  Stover  asked  him 
self. 

Achilles  Henderson  turned  into  the  yard,  and  ac 
costed  the  farmer : 

"  Good  morning,  friend/7  he  said.  "  Can  you  tell 
me  if  a  boy  of  about  sixteen  has  passed  here  this 
morning." 

"  That  boy  again  !  "  thought  the  bewildered  farmer. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered. 

"  Please  describe  him." 

Mr.  Stover  did  so. 

"  The  very  one !  "  said  Achilles.  "  Now  how  long 
since  was  he  here  ?  " 

"  He  took  breakfast  with  my  family,  and  started  off 
nigh  on  to  an  hour  ago." 

"  In  what  direction  did  he  go  ?  " 

This  question  was  also  answered. 

"  Thank  you,  friend,"  said  the  giant ;  "  you  have 
done  me  a  favor." 

"  Then  won't  you  do  me  one  ?  "  said  Stover.  "  Who 
is  this  boy  that  so  many  people  are  askin'  for  ?  " 

"•  He  is  a  young  acrobat  connected  with  Barlow's 
circus.  But  what  do  you  mean  by  so  many  people 
asking  about  him  ?  " 

"  There  was  two  men  here  twenty  minutes  ago, 
that  seemed  very  anxious  to  find  him." 

Achilles  Henderson  heard  this  with  apprehension. 
He  could  guess  who  they  were,  and  what  he  heard 
alarmed  him  for  Kit's  safety. 

"  Who  are  they  ?  "  he  inquired  hastily. 

"  Dick  Hayden  and  Bob  Stubbs." 

"  Are  they  miners  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Did  you  tell  them  where  the  boy  went  ?  " 

"Sartin!    Why  not  ?w 


IN  THE   ENEMY'S   HANDS.  155 

" Because  they  mean  to  do  the  boy  a  mischief; 
they  may  even  kill  him." 

"  What  in  creation  should  they  do  that  for  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Stover,  I  must  follow  them  at  once.  Have 
you  a  team  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  but  I  calculated  to  use  it." 

"  I  must  have  it,  and  I  want  you  to  go  with  me. 
You  may  charge  what  you  please.  Remember  a  boy's 
life  may  depend  on  it." 

"  Then  you  shall  have  it,"  said  the  farmer,  "  and 
I'll  go  with  you.  I  took  a  likin'  to  the  boy.  He 
was  a  gentleman,  if  ever  I  saw  one;  and  my  women 
folks  was  mightily  taken  with  him.  Dick  Hayden 
and  Bob  Stubbs  are  rough  kind  of  men,  and  I 
wouldn't  trust  any  one  I  set  store  by  in  their  hands. 
But  why — 

"  Harness  your  horse,  and  I'll  answer  your  ques 
tions  on  the  way,  Mr.  Stover." 

"  How  do  you  know  my  name  ?  "  asked  Stover,  with 
sudden  thought. 

"  I  was  told  by  some  one  as  I  came  along." 

The  farmer  lost  no  time  in  harnessing  his  horse, 
Achilles  Henderson  lending  a  hand.  The  horse 
seemed  rather  alarmed,  never  having  seen  a  giant 
before,  but  soon  got  over  his  fright.  The  two  men 
then  jumped  into  the  wagon,  and  set  out  in  search 
of  Kit. 

Meanwhile  our  hero  had  taken  his  way  leisurely 
along  the  road.  He  didn't  anticipate  being  followed, 
at  any  rate  so  soon,  and  felt  under  no  particular 
apprehension.  He  had  walked  about  three  miles 
when  a  broad  branching  elm  tree  tempted  him  to 
rest  by  its  shade.  He  threw  himself  down  on  the 
grass,  and  indulged  in  self  congratulations  upon  his 
escape  from  his  cantors,  But  his  congratulation 


1 56  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

proved  to  be  premature.  After  a  while  he  raised  his 
eyes  and  looked  carelessly  back  in  the  direction  from 
which  he  had  come.  What  he  saw  startled  him. 

The  two  miners,  Hayden  and  Stubbs,  had  lost  no 
time  on  the  way.  They  were  bent  on  capturing  Kit, 
in  order  to  revenge  themselves  upon  him. 

Reaching  a  little  eminence  in  the  road  Dick  Hay- 
den  caught  sight  of  his  intended  victim  sitting  under 
the  tree. 

His  eyes  gleamed  with  a  wicked  light. 

"  There's  the  kid,  Stubbs  !  "  he  said.  "  Stir  your 
stumps,  old  man,  and  we'll  collar  him  !  " 

The  two  miners  started  on  a  run,  and  when  Kit 
caught  sight  of  them  they  were  already  within  a  few 
rods.  The  young  acrobat  saw  that  his  only  safety, 
if  indeed  there  was  any  chance  at  all,  was  in  flight. 
He  started  to  his  feet,  and  being  fleet  of  limb  gave 
them  a  good  chase.  But  in  the  end  the  superior 
strength  and  endurance  of  the  men  conquered. 
Flushed  and  panting,  Kit  was  compelled  to  stop. 
Hayden  grasped  him  by  the  collar  with  a  look  of 
wicked  satisfaction. 

"  So  I've  got  you,  my  fine  chap,  have  I  ?  " 

"  Yes,  so  it  seems  !  "  said  Kit,  his  heart  sinking. 

"  Sit  down !    I've  got  a  few  questions  to  ask." 

There  was  a  broad  flat  stone  by  the  roadside.  lie 
seated  Kit  upon  it  with  a  forcible  push,  and  the  two 
men  ranged  themselves  one  on  each  side  of  him. 

"What  time  did  you  leave  the  cabin,  boy?" 

"  I  don't  know  what  time  it  was.  It  must  hav* 
been  two  hours  since — perhaps  more." 

"  Did  any  one  let  you  out  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Who  was  it  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  the  person's  name." 


IN   THE   ENEMY'S   HANDS.  157 

"Was  it  a  man?" 

Kit  began  to  feel  that  he  must  be  cautious.  He 
knew  that  she  was  the  daughter  of  the  man  who  was 
questioning  him,  and  that  she  would  be  in  danger  of 
rough"  treatment  if  her  father  should  find  out  that 
she  had  thwarted  him. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you1,"  he  answered,  though  he  well 
knew  that  the  answer  was  likely  to  get  him  into 
trouble. 

"  You  can't  tell  ?  Why  not  ?  Don't  you  know 
whether  it  was  a  man  or  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  know/7 

"  You  mean  that  you  won't  tell  me,  then  ?  "  said 
Hayden,  in  a  menacing  tone. 

"  I  mean  that  I  don't  care  to  do  it.  I  might  get 
the  person  into  trouble." 

"  You  would  that,  you  may  bet  your  life.  I  can 
tackle  any  man  round  nere,  and  I'd  get  even  with  that 
man  if  I  swung  for  it." 

"  That  is  why  I  don't  care  to  tell  you,"  said  Kit. 
"  How  can  you  tell  that  the  man  knew  you  put  me 
there?" 

"Didn't  you  tell  him?" 

"  No." 

"  It  was  a  man,  then !  "  said  Hayden,  turning  to 
Stubbs.  "  Look  here,  young  feller,  if  you  tell  me 
who  it  wa"s,  yoil  may  get  off  better  yourself." 

"  I  would  raiher  not !  "  answered  Kit,  pale  but  firm. 

"  Suit  yourself,  kid,  but  ydu  may  as  well  know 
that  you'll  be  half  killed  before  we  get  through  with 
you.  Get  up'! " 

As  he  spoke,  Hayden  jerked  Kit  to  his  feet,  and 
began  to  drag  him  toward  the  rail  fence. 

"  Take  down  the  rails,  Stubbs !  "  he  said. 

"  What's  your  game,  l)ick?  " 


158  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  I'm  going  to  give  the  kid  a  drubbing  that  he 
won't  be  likely  to  forget,  but  I  can't  do  it  in  the  road, 
for  some  one  may  come  along." 

"  I'm  with  you,,  Dick." 

At  the  lower  end  of  the  field  which  they  had  now 
entered  was  a  strip  of  woods,  which  promised  seclu 
sion  and  freedom  from  interruption.  Poor  Kit,  as 
he  was  dragged  forward  by  his  relentless  captor,  found 
his  spirits  sinking  to  zero. 

"  Will  no  one  deliver  me  from  this  brutal  man  ?  " 
he  exclaimed  inwardly. 

He  felt  that  his  life  was  in  peril. 


CHAPTEK  XXXII. 

KIT'S   DANGER. 

THE  men  reached  the  edge  of  the  woods  and 
halted. 

"  I'd  like  to  hang  him !  "  growled  Dick  Hayden 
with  a  malignant  look. 

"  It  wouldn't  do,  Dick/'  said  Stubbs.  "  We'd  get 
into  trouble." 

"  If  we  were  found  out." 

"  Murder  will  'most  always  come  out,"  said  Stubbs, 
uneasily.  He  was  a  shade  less  brutal  and  far  less 
daring  than  his  companion. 

It  can  be  imagined  with  what  feelings  Kit  heard 
this  colloquy.  He  had  no  confidence  in  the  humanity 
of  his  captors,  and  considered  them,  Dick  Hayden  in 
particular,  as  capable  of  anything.  He  did  not  dare 
to  remonstrate  lest  in  a  spirit  of  perversity  the  two 
men  might  proceed  to  extremities. 


KIT'S  DANGER. 

Kit  was  not  long  in  doubt  as  to  the  intentions  of 
his  captors. 

"  Take  off  your  coat,  boy !  "  said  Hayden,  harshly. 

Kit  looked  into  the  face  of  his  persecutor,  and  de 
cided  that  it  would  be  prudent  to  obey.  Otherwise 
he  would  have  forcibly  resisted. 

He  removed  his  coat  and  held  it  over  his  arm. 

"  Lay  down  the  coat  and  take  off  your  vest/'  was 
the  next  order. 

This  also  Kit  felt  compelled  to  do. 

Dick  Hayden  produced  from  the  capacious  side 
pocket  of  his  coat  a  cord,  which  he  proceeded  to  test 
by  pulling.  It  was  evidently  very  strong. 

"  Stubbs,  tie  him  to  yonder  sapling !  "  said  Dick. 

Stubbs  proceeded,  nothing  loth,  to  obey  the  direc 
tions  of  his  leader.  Kit  was  tied  with  his  back  ex 
posed.  Dick  Hayden  watched  the  preparations  with 
evident  enjoyment. 

"  This  is  the  moment  I  have  been  longing  for/'  he 
said. 

From  his  other  pocket  he  drew  a  cowhide,  which 
he  passed  through  the  fingers  of  his  left  hand,  while 
with  cruel  eyes  he  surveyed  the  shrinking  form  of  his 
victim. 

Meanwhile  where  was  Achilles  Henderson? 

He  and  Stover  bowled  as  rapidly  over  the  road  as 
the  speed  of  a  fourteen  year  old  horse  would  permit. 
He  looked  eagerly  before  him,  in  the  hope  of  catching 
a  glimpse  either  of  Kit  or  of  the  miners.  When  they 
started  they  were  far  behind,  but  at  last  they  reached 
a  point  on  the  road  where  they  could  see  Kit  and  his 
two  captors  making  their  way  across  the  fields. 

"  There  they  are !  "  said  Stover,  who  was  the  first 
to  see  them. 

"  And  they've  got  the  boy  with  them !  "  ejaculated 
A-chilles.  "  Where  are  they  going,  do  you  think  ?  " 


l6o  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  Over  to  them  woods,  it's  likely,"  replied  Stover. 

"What  for?" 

"  I'm  afraid  they  mean  to  do  the  boy  harm." 

"  Not  if  I  can  prevent  it,"  said  Achilles,  with  a 
gtern  look  about  the  mouth. 

"  They're  goin'  to  give  him  a  floggin',  I  think." 

"  They'll  get  the  same  dose  in  larger  measure,  I  can 
tell  them  that.  Mr.  Stover,  isn't  there  any  way  I  can 
reach  the  woods  by  a  short  cut  so  that  they  won't  see 
me?" 

"  Yes,  there  is  a  path  in  that  field  there.  There  is 
a  fringe  of  trees  separatin'  it  from  the  field  where 
they  are  walkin'." 

"  Then  stop  your  horse,  and  I'll  jump  out !  " 

Mr.  Stover  did  so  with  alacrity.  He  disliked  both 
Dick  Hayden  and  Bob  Stubbs,  whom  he  had  reason 
to  suspect  of  carrying  off  a  dozen  of  his  chickens  the 
previous  season.  He  had  not  dared  to  charge  them 
with  it,  knowing  the  men's  ugly  disposition,  and  be 
ing  certain  that  they  would  revenge  themselves  upon 
him. 

"  Do  you  want  me  along,  Mr.  Giant  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  No ;  I'm  more  than  a  match  for  them  both/* 

"  Shouldn't  wonder  if  you  were,"  chuckled  Stover. 

He  kept  his  place  in  the  wagon  and  laughed  quietly 
to  himself. 

"  I'd  like  to  see  the  scrimmage,"  he  said  to  himself. 

With  this  object  in  view  he  drove  forward,  so  that 
from  the  wagon  seat  he  could  command  a  view  of  the 
scene  of  conflict. 

"  They're  tying  the  boy  to  a  tree,"  he  said.  "  I 
reckon  the  giant'll  be  in  time,  and  I'm  glad  on't.  That 
boy's  a  real  gentleman.  Worker  what  he's  done  to 
rile  Dick  Hayden  and  Bob  Stubbs.  He'd  have  a 
mighty  small  show  if  the  giant  hadn't  come  up. 


KIT'S  DANGER.  l6l 

Dick's  a  strong  man,  but  he'll  be  like  a  child  in  the 
hands  of  an  eight-footer." 

Meanwhile  Achilles  Henderson  was  getting  over 
the  ground  at  the  rate  of  ten  miles  an  hour  or  more. 
His  long  strides  gave  him  a  great  advantage  over  an 
ordinary  runner. 

"  If  they  lay  a  hand  on  that  boy  I  pity  'em ! "  he 
said  to  himself. 

It  was  fortunate  for  Kit  that  Dick  Hayden,  like  a 
cat  who  plays  with  a  mouse,  paused  to  gloat  over  the 
evident  alarm  and  uneasiness  of  his  victim,  even  after 
all  was  ready  for  the  punishment  which  he  proposed  to 
inflict. 

"  Well,  boy,  what  have  you  to  say  now  ?  "  he  de 
manded,  drawing  the  cowhide  through  his  short 
stubby  fingers. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say  that  will  move  you  from 
your  purpose,  I  am  afraid,"  replied  poor  Kit. 

"  I  guess  you're  about  right  there,  kid !  "  chuckled 
Hay  den.  "  Are  you  ready  to  apologize  to  me  for 
what  you  done  over  to  the  circus  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  there  is  anything  to  apologize  for." 

"  There  isn't,  isn't  there  ?  Didn't  you  bring  that 
long-legged  ruffian  on  to  me  ?  " 

"  I  was  only  doing  my  duty,"  said  Kit,  manfully. 

"  Oho !  so  that's  the  way  you  look  at  it,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  No  doubt  you'd  like  it  if  that  tall  brute  were  here 
now,"  said  Hayden,  tauntingly. 

"  Yes,"  murmured  Kit ;  "  I  wish  my  good  friend 
Achilles  were  here." 

"  So  that's  his  name,  is  it  ?  Well,  I  wouldn't  mind 
if  he  were  here.  Stubbs,  I  think  you  and  I  could  do 
for  him,  eh  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Stubbs,  dubiously. 
11 


l62  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  Well  I  do.  He's  only  one  man,  while  we  are  two, 
and  strong  at  that." 

"  Oho ! "  thought  Achilles,  who  was  now  within 
hearing.  "  So  my  friend,  the  miner,  is  getting  valor 
ous!  Well,  he  will  probably  have  a  chance  to  test 
his  strength." 

By  this  time  Hayden  had  got  through  with  his 
taunts,  and  was  ready  to  enjoy  his  vengeance. 

"  Your  time  has  come,  boy ! "  he  said,  fiercely. 
"  Stand  back,  Stubbs  !  " 

Bob  Stubbs  stepped  back,  and  Dick  Hayden  raised 
the  cruel  cowhide  in  his  muscular  grasp.  It  would 
have  inflicted  a  terrible  blow  had  it  fallen  on  the 
young  acrobat.  But  something  unexpected  hap 
pened.  The  instrument  of  torture  was  torn  from 
his  hands,  and  a  deep  voice,  which  he  knew  only  too 
well,  uttered  these  words :  "  For  shame,  you  brute ! 
Would  you  kill  the  boy?" 

Panic  stricken  the  brutal  miner  turned  and  found 
himself  confronting  Achilles  Henderson. 

A  fierce  cry  of  rage  and  disappointment  burst  from 
his  lips. 

"  Where  did  you  come  from  ?  "  he  stammered. 

"  From  Heaven,  I  think !  "  murmured  poor  Kit, 
with  devout  gratitude  to  that  overruling  Providence 
which  had  sent  him  such  a  helper  in  his  utmost 
need. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

DICK  HAYDEN  MEETS  WITH  RETRIBUTION". 

DICK  HAYDEN  and  Bob  Stubbs,  large  and  strong 
inen  as  they  were,  looked  puny,  compared  with  the 


DICK   HAYDEN    MEETS   WITH    RETRIBUTION.    163 

giant  who  towered  beside  them,  his  face  kindling 
with  righteous  indignation. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  to  the  boy  ?  "  he  de 
manded,  sternly. 

"  I  was  going  to  flog  him/'  answered  Hayden  in  a 
surly  tone. 

"  And  you  were  helping  him  ?  "  went  on  Achilles, 
turning  to  Stubbs. 

"  Xo,  sir,"  answered  Stubbs  eagerly,  for,  big  as  he 
was,  he  was  a  coward.  "  I  didn't  want  Dick  to  do  it." 

"  You  coward  !  "  exclaimed  Hayden,  contemptuous 
ly.  "  You're  as  deep  in  it  as  I  am." 

"  Is  that  true,  Kit  ?  "  asked  Achilles. 

"  He  isn't  as  bad  as  the  other,"  said  Kit.  "  That 
man  Hayden  thought  of  killing  me,  but  his  friend 
protested  against  it." 

"  It  shall  be  remembered  to  his  credit.  Why  did 
you  wish,  to  flog  the  boy  ?  "  he  asked  of  Hayden. 

"  On  account  of  what  happened  at  the  circus." 

"The  boy  didn't  touch  you." 

"  He  brought  you  on  me."  ^ 

"  Then  I  was  the  one  to  punish." 

"  I  couldn't  get  at  you." 

"  Here  I  am,  at  your  service." 

Dick  Harden  measured  the  giant  with  a  vindictive 
eye,  but  there  was  something  in  the  sight  of  the 
mighty  thews  and  sinews  of  the  huge  man  that 
quelled  his  warlike  ardor. 

"  It  wouldn't  be  a  fair  contest,"  he  said  sullenly. 

"  There  are  two  of  you,  as  you  said  just  before  I 
came." 

"No,  there  are  not,"  interposed  Stubbs,  hastily. 
"  I  hain't  any  grudge  against  you,  Mr.  Giant." 

"  You  are  willing  to  help  me  ?  " 

"Yes." 


164  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  Then  untie  that  boy." 

Stubbs  unloosed  the  cord  that  bound  Kit  to  the 
tree,  while  Achilles  Henderson  watched  Hay  den  nar 
rowly.,  for  he  had  no  mind  to  let  him  go  free. 

"  Are  you  that  man's  slave  ?  "  asked  Hayden. 

"  I  am  willing  to  oblige  him,"  said  Stubbs,  meekly. 

Kit  straightened  up  on  being  released,  and  breathed 
a  sigh  of  relief. 

"  Come  along,  Stubbs,"  said  Hayden,  with  an  ugly 
look  at  Kit  and  his  protector.  "  Our  business  is 
through." 

"  Not  quite,"  said  Achilles,  quietly,  as  he  laid  his 
broad  hand  with  a  detaining  grasp  on  the  shoulder  of 
the  ruffian.  "  I  am  not  through  with  you." 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  asked  Dick  Hayden  with  as 
sumed  bravado,  but  with  an  uneasy  look  on  his  low 
ering  face. 

"  I  am  going  to  give  you  a  lesson.  I  gave  you  one 
at  the  circus  ground,  but  you  need  another." 

"  Touch  me  if  you  dare !  "  said  Hayden,  defiantly. 

For  answer,  Achilles  hurled  him  to  the  ground 
with  less  effort  than  Hayden  would  have  needed  to 
serve  Kit  in  the  same  way.  Then  with  the  cowhide 
uplifted  he  struck  the  prostrate  wretch  three  sharp 
blows  that  made  him  howl  with  rage  and  pain. 
Stubbs  looked  on  with  pale  face,  thinking  that  his 
turn  might  come  next. 

"Hit  him,  Stubbs!  Kill  him!"  screamed  Didk 
Havden.  "  Would  you  stand  by  and  see  me  mur 
dered?" 

"I  can't  help  you,"  said  Stubbs.  "What  can  I 
do?" 

Having  administered  justice  to  the  chief  ruffian, 
'Achilles  turned  to  Stubbs. 

"  Now/'  he  said,  "  what  have  you  to  say  for  your- 


DICK   HAYDEN    MEETS   WITH   RETRIBUTION.    165 

self?    Why  shouldn't  I  serve  you  in  the  same  way  ?  * 

"  Spare  me !  "  whined  Stubbs,  panic  stricken.  "  I 
am  the  boy's  friend.  It  was  Hayden  who  wanted  to 
hurt  him." 

"  My  friend,  I  put  very  little  confidence  in  what 
you  say.  Still  I  don't  think  you  are  as  bad  as  this 
brute  here.  I  will  spare  you  on  one  condition." 

"What  is  it?  Indeed,  I  will  do  anything  you 
ask." 

"  Then  take  this  cowhide  and  give  your  compan 
ion  a  taste  of  its  quality." 

Stubbs  looked  alarmed. 

"Don't  ask  me  to  do  that,"  he  said.  "Me  and 
Dick  are  pals." 

"  Just  as  I  supposed.  In  that  case  you  require  a 
dose  of  the  same  medicine,"  and  Achilles  made  a 
threatening  demonstration  with  the  rawhide. 

"  Don't  do  it,"  cried  Stubbs,  affrighted. 

"  Then  will  you  do  as  I  say  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes." 

"Will  you  lay  it  on  well?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  Stubbs,  who,  forced  to  choose 
between  his  own  skin  and  Hay  den's,  was  influenced 
by  a  regard  for  his  own  person. 

Dick  Hayden  listened  to  this  conference  with  low 
ering  brow.  He  did  not  think  Stubbs  would  dare  to 
hit  him.  But  he  was  destined  to  find  himself  un 
pleasantly  surprised. 

Stubbs  took  the  hide  from  the  hands  of  the  giant, 
and  anxious  to  conciliate  his  powerful  antagonist 
laid  it  with  emphasis  on  Hayden,  already  smarting 
from  his  former  castigation. 

"  I'll  kill  you  for  that,  Bob  Stubbs ! "  he  yelled, 
almost  frothing  at  the  mouth  with  rage. 

"  I  had  to  do  it,  Dick !  "  said  Stubbs,  apologetically. 
r<  You  heard  what  he  said." 


166  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"I  don't  care  what  he  said.  To  spare  your  own 
miserable  carcass,  you  struck  your  friend.  But  I 
am  your  friend  no  longer.  Til  have  it  out  of  ^ 


you 


f  » 


"  Come,  Kit,  you  are  revenged/'  said  the  giant. 
"  Now  let  us  hurry  on  to  the  circus.  There's  a  team 
in  the  road  below.  I  think  I  can  make  a  bargain 
with  Mr.  Stover  to  carry  us  all  the  way." 

They  found  Mr.  Stover  waiting  for  them. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "how  did  you  make  out?" 

"  Suppose  you  look  back  and  see  !  " 

Stover  did  look,  and  to  his  amazement  lie  saw 
Dick  Hayden  and  Bob  Stubbs  rolling  on  the  ground, 
each  holding  the  other  in  a  fierce  embrace.  Hayden 
had  attacked  Stubbs,  and  though  the  latter  tried 
hard  to  avoid  a  combat  he  was  forced  into  it.  Then, 
finding  himself  pushed,  he  fought  as  well  as  ho 
could.  Fortune  favored  him,  for  Dick  Hayden  trip 
ped,  and  in  so  doing  sprained  his  ankle.  He  fell 
with  a  groan,  and  Stubbs,  glad  to  escape,  left  him  in 
haste,  and  made  the  best  of  his  way  home. 

It  was  not  until  several  hours  afterwards  that 
Hayden  was  found  by  another  party,  and  carried 
home,  where  he  was  confined  for  a  fortnight.  This 
was  fortunate  for  Kit  and  the  giant,  for  he  had  in 
tended  to  make  a  formal  complaint  before  a  justice 
of  the  peace  which  might  have  resulted  in  the  arrest 
and  detention  of  one  or  both.  But  his  sprained 
ankle  gave  him  so  much  pain  that  it  drove  all  other 
thoughts  out  of  his  head  for  the  time  being. 

Mr.  Stover  was  induced  by  an  unusually  liberal 
offer  to  convey  the  two  friends  to  the  next  town, 
where  they  found  their  circus  friends  wondering 
what  had  become  of  them.  Kit  was  none  the  worse 
for  his  experience,  though  it  had  been  far  from  pleas 
ant,  and  performed  that  afternoon  and  evening  with 
his  usual  spirit  and  success. 


SOME  IMPORTANT  INFORMATION.          167 

He  told  Achilles  how  he  had  been  rescued  by 
Janet  Hayden,  and  the  latter  said  with  emphasis: 
"  The  girl's  a  trump !  She  has  probably  saved  your 
life !  That  brute,  her  father,  wouldn't  shrink  from 
any  violence,  no  matter  how  great.  You  ought  to 
make  her  some  acknowledgment,  Kit." 

"  I  wouldn't  dare  to,"  answered  the  young  acro 
bat.  "  If  her  father  should  find  out  what  she  did 
for  me,  I  am  afraid  her  life  would  not  be  safe/' 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

SOME  IMPORTANT  INFORMATION. 

Two  or  three  days  later,  the  circus  was  billed  to 
show  at  Glendale,  a  manufacturing  village  in  West 
ern  Pennsylvania.  The  name  attracted  the  attention 
of  Kit,  for  this  was  the  place  where  his  uncle  had 
lived  for  many  years  previous  to  the  death  of  Kit's 
father.  He  naturally  desired  to  learn  something  of 
his  uncle's  reputation  among  the  villagers,  who  from 
his  long  residence  among  them  must  remember  him 
well. 

The  circus  had  arrived  during  the  night.  As  a  gen 
eral  thing  Kit  was  not  in  a  hurry  to  get  up,  but  as  he 
was  to  stay  but  a  day  in  Glendale,  he  rose  early,  with 
the  intention  of  improving  his  time. 

Breakfast  in  the  circus  tent  was  not  ready  till  nine 
o'clock,  for  circus  men  of  every  description  get  up 
late,  except  the  razorbacks,  who  are  compelled  to  be 
about  very  early  to  unload  the  freight  cars,  and  thb 
canvas  men,  who  put  up  the  tents.  So  Kit  went  to 
the  hotel,  and  registering  his  name  called  for  breal*- 


168  THE   YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

After  he  had  eaten  it,  he  strolled  into  tlie  office, 
hoping  to  meet  some  one  of  whom  he  could  make  in 
quiries  respecting  his  uncle.  This  was  made  unex 
pectedly  easy.  A  man  of  about  his  uncle's  age  had 
been  examining  the  list  of  arrivals.  He  looked  at  Kit 
inquisitively. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  young  man/'  he  said,  *(  but 
are  you  Christopher  Watson  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Kit,  politely. 

"  Did  you  ever  have  any  relatives  living  in  this 
place?" 

"  Yes,  sir.  My  uncle,  Stephen  Watson,  used  to  live 
here." 

"  I  thought  so.  I  once  saw  your  father.  He  came 
here  to  visit  your  uncle.  You  look  like  him." 

Kit  was  gratified,  for  he  cherished  a  warm  affection 
for  his  dead  father,  and  was  glad  to  have  it  said  that 
he  resembled  him. 

"  Are  you  going  to  stay  here  long  ? "  asked  the 
villager. 

"  No,  sir ;  I  am  here  only  for  the  day." 

"  On  business,  I  presume." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Kit,  smiling.  "  I  am  here 
with  Barlow's  circus.'" 

The  other  looked  amazed. 

r'You  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  are  connected 
with  the  circus?"  he  exclaimed. 

"Yes,  sir." 

e<  In  what  capacity  ?  " 

"  I  am  an  acrobat." 

"  I  don't  understand  it  at  all.  Why  should  your 
father's  son  need  to  travel  with  a  circus  ?  " 

"  Because  I  have  my  living  to  earn,  and  that  pays 
me  better  than  any  other  employment  I  can  get." 

"  But  your  father  was  a  rich  man,  I  always  heard/* 


SOME   IMPORTANT   INFORMATION.          169 

"  I  supposed  so  myself,  till  a  short  time  since  my 
uncle  informed  me  that  I  was  penniless,  and  must 
learn  a  trade." 

"  But  where  did  the  money  go,  then  ?  How  does 
your  uncle  make  a  living  ?  " 

"  He  has  my  father's  old  place,  and  appears  to  have 
enough  to  support  himself  and  Ralph." 

"  Sit  down  here,  young  man !  There  is  something 
strange  about  this.  I  want  to  ask  you  a  few  ques 
tions/' 

"  You  are  the  man  I  want  to  see,"  said  Kit.  "  I 
think  myself  there  is  some  mystery,  and  I  would  like 
to  ask  some  questions  about  my  uncle  Stephen  from 
some  one  who  knew  him  here.  I  suppose  you  knew 
him?" 

"  No  one  knew  him  better.  Many  is  the  time  he 
has  come  to  me  for  a  loan.  He  didn't  always  pay 
back  the  money,  and  I  dare  say  he  owes  me  still  in 
the  neighborhood  of  fifty  dollars." 

"Was  he  poor  then?" 

"  He  was  in  very  limited  circumstances.  He  pre 
tended  to  be  in  the  insurance  business,  and  had  a 
small  office  in  the  building  near  the  hotel,  but  if  he 
made  four  hundred  dollars  a  year  in  that  way  it  was 
more  than  any  one  supposed." 

"  Then,"  said  Kit,  puzzled,  "  how  could  he  have 
lent  my  father  ten  thousand  dollars  ?  " 

<e  He  lend  you  father  ten  thousand  dollars,  or  any 
body  else  ten  thousand  dollars !  Why,  that  is  per 
fectly  ridiculous.  Who  says  he  did  ?  " 

"  He  says  so  himself." 

"  To  whom  did  he  tell  that  fish  story  ?  " 

"  He  told  me.  That  is  the  way  he  explained  his 
taking  possession  of  the  property.  That  was  only 
one  loan.  He  said  he  lent  father  money  at  varioui 
times,  and  had  to  take  the  estate  in  payment." 


I/O  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

Kit's  auditor  gave  a  loud  whistle. 

"  The  man's  a  deeper  and  shrewder  rascal  than  I 
had  any  idea  of/7  he  said.  "  He  is  swindling  you  in 
the  most  barefaced  manner." 

"  I  am  not  very  much  surprised  to  hear  it,"  said 
Kit.  "  I  was  not  satisfied  that  he  was  telling  the 
truth.  If  you  are  correct,  then,  he  has  wrongfully 
appropriated  my  father's  money." 

"  There  is  not  a  doubt  of  it.  Did  he  drive  you 
from  home  ?  " 

"  About  the  same.  He  attempted  to  apprentice  me 
to  a  blacksmith,  while  his  own  son  Ralph  he  means 
to  send  to  college,  and  have  him  study  law." 

"  I  remember  Ralph  well,  though  he  was  a  small 
boy  when  he  left  this  village.  He  was  very  unpop 
ular  among  those  of  his  own  age.  He  was  always  up 
to  some  mean  act  of  mischief.  He  got  my  boy  into 
trouble  once  in  school  by  charging  him  with  some 
thing  he  had  himself  done." 

"  He  hasn't  changed  much,  then,"  said  Kit,  u  We 
both  attended  the  same  boarding  school,  but  nobody 
liked  Ralph." 

"  Was  he  much  of  a  scholar  ?  " 

"  No ;  he  dragged  along  in  the  lower  half  of  the 
class." 

"  Were  you  two  good  friends  ?  " 

"  We  didn't  quarrel,  but  we  kept  apart." 

"  So  his  father  wants  to  make  a  lawyer  of  him?" 

"  Yes ;  I  have  had  a  letter  from  Smyrna  in  which  I 
hear  that  my  uncle  has  just  bought  Ralph  a  bicycle 
valued  at  a  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars." 

"  Money  seems  to  be  more  plenty  with  him  now 
than  it  used  to  be  in  his  Glendale  days.  By  the  way 
would  you  like  to  see  the  place  where  your  uncle  used 
to  live?" 


SOME  IMPORTANT  INFORMATION.          I?! 

s<  Yes,  sir,  if  you  don't  mind  showing  me." 

"  I  will  do  so  with  pleasure.  Put  on  your  hat,  and 
we  will  go  at  once." 

They  walked  about  a  third  of  a  mile,  till  they 
reached  the  outskirts  of  the  village. 

"  This  is  the  home  of  the  foreign  population/'  said 
Kit's  guide.  "  And  there  is  the  house  which  was  oc 
cupied  for  at  least  ten  years  by  your  uncle." 

Kit  eyed  the  building  with  interest.  It  was  a 
plain  looking  cottage,  containing  but  four  rooms, 
which  stood  badly  in  need  of  paint.  There  was 
about  an  acre  of  land,  rocky  and  sterile,  attached  to  it. 

"  This  is  the  residence  of  the  man  who  lent  your 
father  ten  thousand  dollars,"  said  his  guide,  in  an 
ironical  tone.  "  Not  much  of  a  palace,  is  it  ?  " 

"  It  can't  be  worth  over  a  thousand  dollars." 

"  Your  uncle  sold  it  for  seven  hundred  and  eighty 
dollars,  but  he  didn't  get  that  sum  in  money,  for  it 
was  mortgaged  for  six  hundred." 

"You  said  my  father  came  here  once?" 

"  It  was  to  visit  your  uncle.  While  he  was  here, 
he  stood  security  at  the  tailor's  for  new  suits  for 
your  uncle  and  cousin,  and  must  have  given  your 
uncle  some  cash  besides,  for  he  appeared  to  be  in 
funds  for  some  time  afterwards.  So  you  see  the 
loan,  or  rather  gift,  was  on  the  other  side." 

"  I  don't  see  how  my  uncle  dared  to  misrepresent 
matters  in  that  way." 

"  Nor  I ;  for  he  could  easily  be  convicted  of  fraud 
ulent  statements." 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  }7ou,  Mr. * 

"  Pierce." 

"  Mr.  Pierce,  for  your  information." 

"  I  hope  you  will  make  some  use  of  it." 

"  I  certainly  shall,"  said  Kit,  his  good  humored 
face  showing  unwonted  resolution. 


172  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  Whenever  you  do,  my  testimony  will  be  at  your 
service,  and  there  are  plenty  others  who  will  corrob 
orate  my  statements  of  your  uncle's  financial  con 
dition  when  here.  The  fact  is,  my  young  friend, 
your  uncle  has  engaged  in  a  most  shameless  plot 
against  you." 

Kit  was  deeply  impressed  by  this  conversation. 
He  was  resolved,  when  the  time  came,  to  assert  his 
rights,  and  lay  claim  to  his  dead  father's  property. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

ON    THE    TRAPEZE. 

KIT  was  on  pleasant  relations  with  his  fellow  per 
formers.  Indeed,  he  was  a  general  favorite,  owing 
to  his  obliging  disposition  and  pleasant  manners. 
He  took  an  interest  in  their  acts  as  well  as  his  own, 
and  in  particular  had  cultivated  an  intimacy  with 
Louise  Lefroy,  the  trapeze  performer.  He  had  prac 
ticed  on  the  trapeze  in  the  gymnasium,  and  had  ac 
quired  additional  skill  under  the  tuition  of  Mile. 
Lefroy. 

"  Some  time  you  will  make  an  engagement  as  a 
trapeze  performer,  Christopher/'  said  the  lady  to 
him  one  day. 

"  No,"  answered  Kit,  shaking  his  head. 

"  You  wouldn't  be  afraid  ?  "' 

"  Xo ;  I  think  I  would  make  a  very  respectable  per 
former:  but  I  don't  mean  to  travel  with  the  circni 
after  this  season,  unless  I  am  obliged  to." 

"  Why  should  you  be  obliged  to  ?  " 

"  Because  I  have  my  living  to  earn." 


ON  THE  TRAPEZE.  173 

"  It  is  a  pity,"  said  Mile.  Lefroy.  "  You  geem  cut 
out  for  a  circus  performer/' 

"  Do  you  like  it,  Mile.  Lefroy?  " 

The  lady  looked  thoughtful. 

"  I  have  to  like  it,"  she  said.  "  Besides,  there  is 
an  excitement  about  it,  and  I  crave  excitement." 

"  But  wouldn't  you  rather  have  a  home  of  your 
own?" 

"  Listen !  I  had  a  home  of  my  own,  but  my  hus 
band  was  intemperate,  and  in  fits  of  intoxication 
would  illtreat  me  and  my  boy." 

"  Then  you  have  a  boy  ?  "  said  Kit,  surprised. 

"  Yes ;  and  I  support  him  at  a  boarding  school  out 
of  my  professional  earnings,  which  are  large." 

"  I  am  going  to  ask  you  another  question,  but  you 
may  not  like  to  answer  it." 

"  Speak  plainly." 

"  Your  husband  is  living,  is  he  not  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Does  he  know  that  you  are  a  circus  performer?  " 

"  No ;  and  I  would  not  have  him  know  for  worlds." 

"  Would  he  feel  sensitive  about  it  ?  " 

Mile.  Lefroy  laughed  bitterly. 

"  You  don't  know  him,  or  you  would  not  ask  that 
question,"  she  said.  "  He  would  want  to  appropri 
ate  my  salary.  That  is  why  I  do  not  care  to  have 
him  know  how  I  am  earning  the  living  which  he 
ought  to  provide  for  me." 

"  I  sympathize  with  you,"  said  Kit,  gently. 

"  Then  you  don't  think  any  the  worse  of  me  be 
cause  I  am  a  trapeze  performer." 

"  Why  should  I  ?  Am  I  not  a  circus  performer 
also?" 

"  Yes ;  but  it  is  different  with  you,  being  a  man. 
You  would  not  like  to  think  of  your  mother  or  sis 
ter  in  my  position." 


1/4  THE   YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  No ;  I  would  not,,  yet  I  can  imagine  circumstances 
that  would  justify  it." 

From  this  time  Kit  was  disposed  to  look  with  dif 
ferent  eyes  upon  Mile.  Lefroy.  He  did  not  think  of 
her  as  a  daring  actor,  but  rather  as  an  injured  wife 
and  devoted  mother,  who  every  day  risked  her  life 
for  the  sake  of  one  who  was  dear  to  her. 

"  Did  you  never  fear  that  your  husband  might  be 
present  when  you  are  performing  ?  "  asked  Kit. 

"  It  is  my  constant  dread,"  answered  Mile.  Lefroy. 
"  When  I  come  out  in  my  costume,  and  look  over 
the  sea  of  heads,  I  am  always  afraid  I  shall  see  his 
face." 

"  But  you  never  have  yet  ?  " 

"  Never  yet.  I  do  not  think  if  I  should  see  that 
man  I  could  go  through  my  part.  It  requires  nerve, 
as  you  know,  and  my  nerves  would  be  so  shaken  that 
my  life  would  be  in  peril.  If  you  ever  hear  of  my 
meeting  with  an  accident,  you  may  guess  the  proba 
ble  canse." 

"  Then,  if  ever  you  recognize  your  husband  among 
the  spectators,  it  would  be  prudent  to  omit  your  per 
formance." 

:(  That  is  what  I  propose  to  do." 

Kit  little  imagined  how  soon  the  contingency  which 
his  friend  feared  would  arrive. 

Two  evenings  later  Harry  Thorne  brought  him  a 
little  note.  He  opened  it  and  read  as  follows: 

Come  and  see  me  at  once.  LOUISE  LEFROY. 

Kit  ascertained  where  Mile.  Lefroy  was  to  be  found, 
and  obeyed  the  summons  immediately. 
He  found  the  lady  in  great  agitation. 
"  Are  you  not  well  ?  "  he  asked. 


ON  TtiE  TRAPEZJE.  1^5 

"Well  in  health,  but  not  in  mind,"  she  answered. 

"  Has  anything  happened  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  what  I  dreaded  has  come  to  pass." 

"  Have  you  seen  your  husband  ? "  asked  Kit 
quickly. 

"  Yes ;  I  was  taking  a  walk,  and  saw  him  or  the 
opposite  side  of  the  street." 

"  Did  he  see  you  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  I  ascertained  that  he  is  staying  at  the 
hotel.  Now  he  is  likely  to  follow  the  crowd,  and  at 
tend  the  circus  to-night." 

"  That  is  probable.     Then  you  will  not  appear." 

"  I  should  not  dare  to.  But  it  will  be  a  great  dis 
appointment  to  the  management.  The  trapeze  act  is 
always  a  popular  one,  especially  in  a  country  town 
like  this.  Now  I  am  going  to  ask  a  favor  of  you." 

Kit's  face  flushed  with  excitement.  He  foresaw 
what  it  would  be. 

"What  is  it?"  he  asked. 

"  I  want  you  to  appear  in  my  place  this  evening." 

"  Do  you  think  I  am  competent  ?  " 

"  You  cannot  do  my  act,  but  you  can  do  enough  to 
satisfy  the  public.  But,  my  dear  friend,  I  don't  want 
to  subject  you  to  any  risk.  If  you  are  at  all  nervous 
or  afraid,  don't  attempt  it." 

"  I  am  not  afraid,"  said  Kit  confidently.  "  I  will 
appear !  " 

In  the  evening  the  tent  was  full.  Very  few  knew 
of  the  change  in  the  programme.  Mr.  Barlow  had 
consented  to  the  substitution  with  some  reluctance, 
for  he  feared  that  Kit  might  be  undertaking  some 
thing  beyond  his  power  to  perform.  Even  the  Vin- 
centi  brothers,  Kit's  associates,  were  surprised  when 
the  manager  came  forward  and  said : 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,  Mile.  Lefroy  is  indisposed, 


i;6  THE   YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

and  will  be  unable  to  perform  her  act  this  evening. 
Unwilling  to  disappoint  the  public,  we  have  substi 
tuted  one  of  our  youngest  and  most  daring  perform 
ers,  who  will  appear  in  her  place." 

When  Kit  came  out,  his  young  face  glowing  with 
excitement,  and  made  his  bow,  the  crowd  of  specta 
tors  greeted  him  with  enthusiastic  applause.  His 
fellow  actors  joined  in  the  ovation.  They  feared  he 
had  overrated  his  ability,  but  were  ready  to  applaud 
his  pluck. 

Now  was  the  time,  if  an}^,  for  Kit  to  grow  nervous, 
and  show  stage  fright.  But  he  felt  none.  The  sight 
of  the  eager  faces  around  him  only  stimulated  him. 
He  caught  the  rope  which  hung  down  from  the 
trapeze,  and  quickly  climbing  up  poised  himself  on 
his  elevated  perch. 

He  did  not  allow  himself  to  look  down,  but  strove 
to  shut  out  the  sight  of  the  hundreds  of  upturned 
faces,  and  proceeded  to  perform  his  act  as  coolly  as 
if  he  were  in  a  gymnasium,  only  six  feet  from  the 
ground  instead  of  thirty. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  Kit,  who  was  a  com 
parative  novice,  could  equal  Mile.  Louise  Lefroy,  who 
had  been  cultivating  her  specialty  for  ten  years.  He 
went  through  several  feats,  however,  hanging  from 
the  trapeze  with  his  head  down,  then  quickly  re 
covering  himself  and  swinging  by  his  hands.  The 
public  was  disposed  to  be  pleased,  and,  when  the  act 
was  finished,  gave  him  a  round  of  applause. 

Later  in  the  evening  a  small  man,  with  a  very  dark 
complexion,  and  keen,  black  eyes,  approached  him  as 
he  was  standing  near  the  lion's  cage. 

"  Is  this  Luigi  Vincent!  ?  "  he  asked. 

This  was  Kit's  circus  name.  He  passed  for  a  brother, 
of  Alonzo  and  Antonio  VineentL 


ON  THE  TRAPEZE.  1 77 

"Yes,  sir/7  answered  Kit. 

"  I  saw  your  trapeze  act  this  evening/'  he  went 
on.  "  It  was  very  good." 

"  Thank  you,  sir.  You  know,  perhaps,  that  I  am 
not  a  trapeze  performer.  I  only  appeared  in  place 
of  Mile.  Lefroy,  who  is  indisposed." 

"  So  I  understand ;  but  you  do  very  well  for  a  boy. 
My  name  is  Signor  Oponto.  I  am  at  the  head  of  a 
large  circus  in  Havana.  My  visit  to  the  United  States 
is  partly  to  secure  additional  talent.  How  long  are 
you  engaged  to  Mr.  Barlow  ?  " 

"  For  no  definite  time.  I  suppose  I  shall  remain 
till  the  end  of  the  season." 

"  You  have  no  engagements  beyond  ?  " 

"  No,  sir ;  this  is  my  first  season  with  any  circus." 

"  Then  I  will  make  you  an  offer.  I  don't  want  to 
take  you  from  Mr.  Barlow,  but  when  the  season  is 
over  I  shall  be  ready  to  arrange  for  your  appearance 
in  Havana  under  my  personal  management." 

Though  Kit  was  modest  he  was  human.  He  did 
feel  flattered  to  find  himself  rated  so  high.  It  even 
occurred  to  him  that  he  might  like  to  be  considered 
a  star  in  circus  circles,  to  be  the  admiration  of  circus 
audiences,  and  to  be  regarded  with  wondering  awe 
by  boys  of  his  own  age  throughout  the  country.  But 
Kit  was  also  a  sensible  boy.  After  all,  this  preemi 
nence  was  only  of  a  physical  character.  A  great 
acrobat  or  trapeze  artist  has  no  recognized  place  in 
society,  and  his  ambition  is  of  a  low  character.  While 
these  reflections  were  presenting  themselves  to  his 
mind,  Signor  Oponto  stood  by  in  silence,  waiting  for 
his  answer.  He  thought  that  Kit's  hesitation  was  due 
to  pecuniary  considerations. 

"  What  salary  does  Mr.  Barlow  pay  you  ? "  he 
asked,  in  a  businesslike  tone. 


*?%  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  Twenty-five  dollars  a  week/' 

"  I  will  give  you  fifty,  and  engage  you  for  a  year." 

He  regarded  Kit  intently  to  see  how  this  proposal 
struck  him. 

"  You  are  very  liberal,  Signor  Oponto,"  Kit  began, 
but  the  manager  interrupted  him. 

"  I  will  also  pay  your  board/'  he  added ;  "and  of 
course  defray  your  expenses  to  Havana.  Is  that  sat 
isfactory  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  very  much  so  but  for  one  thing." 

"What  is  that?"" 

"  I  doubt  whether  I  shall  remain  in  the  business 
after  this  season/' 

"  Why  not  ?    Don't  you  like  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  very  well ;  but  I  prefer  to  follow  some  pro 
fession  of  a  literary  character.  I  am  nearly  prepared 
for  college,  and  I  may  decide  to  continue  my  studies. " 

"But  even  your  college  students  devote  most  of 
their  time  to  base  ball  and  rowing,  I  hear." 

"  Not  quite  so  bad  as  that/7  answered  Kit,  with  a 
smile. 

"  You  don't  refuse  definitely,  I  hope." 

"  Xo ;  it  may  be  that  I  may  feel  obliged  to  remain 
in  the  business.  In  that  case  I  will  give  you  the 
preference." 

"  That  is  all  I  can  expect.  Here  is  my  card. 
Whenever  you  are  ready,  write  to  me,  and  your  com 
munication  will  receive  instant  attention." 

"  Thank  you,  sir." 

The  next  day  Mile.  Lefroy  resumed  her  work,  the 
danger  of  meeting  her  husband  having  passed.  She 
expressed  her  gratitude  to  Kit  for  serving  as  her 
substitute,  and  wished  to  make  him  a  present  of  ten. 
dollars,  but  he  refused  to  accept  it. 

"  I  was  glad  of  the  chance  to  see  what  I  could  do 


CLOSE   OF   THE   CIRCUS.  179 

on  the  trapeze,"  he  said.  "  I  never  expect  to  follow 
it  up,  but  I  have  already  received  an  offer  of  an  en 
gagement  in  that  line." 

"  So  I  heard.    And  you  don't  care  to  accept  it  ?  " 
"  No ;  I  do  not  mean  to  be  a  circus  performer  per 
manently." 

"  You  are  right.  It  leads  to  nothing,  and  before 
middle  life  you  are  liable  to  find  yourself  unfitted 
for  it," 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

CLOSE      OF      THE      CIRCUS. 

DAYS  and  weeks  flew  swiftly  by.  September  gave 
place  to  October,  and  the  circus  season  neared  its  close. 
Already  the  performers  were  casting  about  for  em 
ployment  during  the  long,  dull  winter  that  must 
elapse  before  the  next  season. 

"  What  are  your  plans,  Kit  ?  "  asked  Antonio  Vin- 
centi,  who  in  private  called  his  young  associate  by  his 
real  name. 

"  I  don't  know  yet,  Antonio.     I  may  go  to  school." 

"  Have  you  saved  money  enough  to  keep  you 
through  the  winter  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  have  four  hundred  dollars  in  the  wagon." 

This  is  the  expression  made  use  of  to  indicate  "  in 
the  hands  of  the  treasurer." 

"You've  done  better  than  my  brother  or  I.  We 
must  work  during  the  winter." 

"  Have  you  any  chance  yet  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  we  can  go  to  work  in  a  dime  museum  in 
Philadelphia  for  a  month,  and  afterwards  we  will  go 


180  THE   YOUNG   ACROBAT. 

to  Chicago,  where  we  were  last  winter.  I  could  get  a 
chance  for  you,  too."' 

"  Thank  you,  but  I  don't  care  to  work  in  that  way 
at  present.  If  I  went  anywhere  I  would  go  to  Hav- 
ana,^where  I  am  offered  a  profitable  engagement." 

"  Has  Mr.  Barlow  said  anything  to  you  about  next 
season  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  but  I  shall  make  no  engagement  in  advance. 
Something  may  happen  which  will  keep  me  at  home.'' 

"  Oh,  you'll  be  coming  round  in  the  spring.  You'll 
have  the  circus  fever  like  all  the  rest  of  us." 

Kit  smiled  and  shook  his  head. 

"  I  haven't  been  in  the  business  long  enough  to  get 
so  much  attached  to  it  as  you  are/'  he  said.  "  But  at 
any  rate,  I  shall  come  round  to  see  my  old  friends." 

The  last  circus  performance  was  given  in  Albany, 
and  the  winter  quarters  were  to  be  at  a  town  twenty 
miles  distant.  Kit  went  through  his  acts  with  his 
usual  success,  and  when  he  took  off  his  circus  costume, 
it  was  with  a  feeling  that  it  might  be  the  last  time 
he  would  wear  it. 

The  breaking  up  was  not  to  take  place  till  the  next 
'day,  and  he  was  preparing  to  spend  the  night  in  some 
Albany  hotel. 

He  had  taken  off  his  tights,  as  has  been  said,  and 
put  on  his  street  dress,  when  a  tall  man,  with  a  frank, 
good  humored  expression,  stepped  up  to  him. 

"Are  you  Christopher  Watson?"  he  asked. 

''  Yes,"  answered  Kit,  in  surprise,  for  he  had  no 
recollection  of  having  met  the  stranger  before. 

"  Of  course  you  don't  know  me,  but  I  was  a  school 
fellow  and  intimate  friend  of  your  father." 

"  Then,"  said  Kit,  cordially,  "  I  must  take  you  by 
the  hand.  All  my  father's  friends  aie  my  friends.** 

The  face  of  the  stranger  lighted  up. 


CLOSE  OF  THE  CIRCUS.  l8l 

<e  That's  the  way  to  talk,"  he  said.  "  I  see  you  are 
like  your  father.  Shake  hands  again." 

"  But  how  did  you  know  I  was  with  Barlow's  cir- 
eus  ?  "  asked  Kit,  puzzled. 

"  Your  uncle  told  me." 

"  Have  you  seen  him  lately  ?  "  asked  Kit,  quickly. 

"  No  •  I  saw  him  about  three  months  ago  at 
Smyrna." 

"  What  did  he  tell  you  about  me  ?  " 

"  He  said  you  were  a  wayward  lad,  and  preferred 
traveling  with  a  circus  to  following  an  honest  busi 
ness." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  have  got  a  wrong  idea  of  me, 
then." 

"  Bless  you,  I  knew  your  uncle  before  you  were 
born.  He  is  not  at  all  like  your  father.  One  was  as 
open  as  the  day,  the  other  was  cunning,  selfish,  and 
foxy." 

"  I  see  you  understand  my  Uncle  Stephen  as  well 
as  I  do." 

"  I  ought  to." 

"  Were  you  surprised  to  hear  that  I  was  traveling 
with  a  circus?" 

"Well,  I  was;  but  your  uncle  told  me  one  thing 
that  surprised  me  more.  He  said  that  your  father 
left  nothing." 

"  That  surprised  me,  too ;  but  [  have  got  some  light 
on  the  subject  and  I  feel  in  need  of  a  friend  and 
adviser." 

"  Then  if  you'll  take  Henry  Miller  for  want  of  a 
better,  I  don't  believe  you'll  regret  it." 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  accept  your  kind  offer,  Mr. 
Miller.  Now  that  you  mention  your  name,  I  remem 
ber  it  very  well.  My  father  often  spoke  of  you." 

"  Did  he  so  ?  "  said  the  stranger,  evidently  much 


1 82  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

gratified.  "  I  am  glad  to  hear  it.  Of  all  my  school 
companions,  your  father  was  the  one  I  liked  best. 
And  now,  before  we  go  any  further,  I  want  to  tell  you 
two  things.  First,!  should  have  hunted  you  up  sooner, 
but  business  called  me  to  California,  where  I  have 
considerable  property.  Next,  having  learned  that 
you  were  left  destitute,  I  decided  to  do  something  for 
the  son  of  my  old  friend.  So  I  took  a  hundred  shares 
of  stock  in  a  new  mine,  which  had  just  been  put  on  the 
market  when  I  reached  'Frisco,  and  I  said  to  myself: 
'  That  is  for  Kit  Watson/  Well,  it  was  a  lucky  in 
vestment.  The  shares  cost  me  five  dollars  apiece, 
and  just  before  I  left  California  I  sold  them  for  fifty 
dollars  apiece.  What  do  you  say  to  that  ?  " 

"  Is  is  possible  mining  shares  rise  in  value  so 
fast  ?  "  asked  Kit  in  amazement. 

"  Well,  sometimes  they  do,  and  sometimes  they 
don't.  Often  it's  the  other  way,  and  I  don't  advise 
you  or  anybody  else  that  knows  nothing  about  it  to 
speculate  in  mining  shares.  It  is  a  risky  thing,  and 
you  are  more  apt  to  lose  than  to  win.  However,  this 
turned  out  0.  K.,  and  you  are  worth  five  thousand 
dollars  to-day,  my  boy." 

"  I  don't  know  how  to  thank  you,  Mr.  Miller,"  said 
Kit.  "  I  can't  seem  to  realize  it." 

"  You  needn't  thank  me  at  all.  I  did  it  for  your 
father's  sake,  but  now  that  I  know  you  I  am  glad  to 
do  it  for  your  own.  When  we  get  to  New  York  I 
advise  you  to  salt  it  down  in  government  bonds,  or 
in  some  other  good  reliable  stock." 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  follow  your  advice,  Mr.  Mil 
ler." 

"  Then  I'll  invest  all  but  five  hundred  dollars,  for 
you  may  want  to  use  that.  What  sort  of  a  season 
have  you  had  ?  " 


CLOSE  OF  THE  CIRCUS.  183 

"I've  saved  up  four  hundred  dollars,"  said  Kit 
proudly. 

"  You  don't  say  so !  You  must  have  got  pretty 
good  pay/' 

"  Twenty-five  dollars  a  week." 

"Your  uncle  said  you  probably  got  two  or  three 
dollars  a  week." 

"  He  probably  thought  so.  He  has  no  idea  I  have 
been  so  well  paid.  I  chose  to  keep  it  from  him." 

"  You  said  you  wanted  to  ask  my  advice  about 
something." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Why  not  come  round  to  the  Delavan  and  take  a 
room  ?  I  am  staying  there,  and  I  will  tell  the  clerk 
to  pick  you  out  a  room  next  to  mine." 

"  I  will  do  so.  I  intended  to  stay  at  some  hotel  to 
night.  This  is  the  last  night  of  the  circus.  To 
morrow  we  close  up,  and  separate.  I  shall  draw  my 
money  and  bid  good-by  to  my  circus  friends." 

"  I  am  glad  of  that.  We  will  keep  together.  I 
have  neither  chick  nor  child,  Kit,  and  if  you'll  ac 
cept  me  as  your  guardian  I'll  do  the  best  I  can  for 
you.  But  perhaps  you  prefer  to  go  back  to  your 
uncle." 

Kit  shook  his  head. 

"  I  should  never  do  that,"  he  said,  "  especially  after 
what  I  have  learned  during  my  trip." 

"  Let  it  keep  till  to-morrow,  for  we  are  both  tired. 
Now  get  ready  and  we'll  go  to  the  Delavan." 

Kit  was  assigned  a  nice  room  next  to  Mr.  Miller, 
where  he  passed  a  comfortable  night. 

The  next  day  he  revealed  to  his  new  friend  the  dis 
coveries  he  had  made  in  his  uncle's  old  home  in  Penn 
sylvania — his  uncle's  poverty  up  to  the  time  of  his 
brother's  death,  and  the  evident  falseness  of  his  claim 


1 84  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

to  have  lent  him  large  sums  of  money,  in  payment  of 
.which  he  had  coolly  appropriated  his  entire  estate. 

His  late  friend  listened  to  this  story  in  amazement. 

"  I  knew  Stephen  Watson  to  be  unprincipled/'  he 
said,  "  but  I  didn't  think  him  as  bad  as  that.  He  has 
swindled  you  shamefully." 

"  Just  my  idea,  Mr.  Miller." 

"While  he  has  carefully  feathered  his  own  nest. 
This  wrong  must  be  righted." 

"  It  was  my  intention  to  find  some  good  lawyer,  and 
ask  his  advice." 

"  We'll  do  it,  Kit.  But,  first  of  all,  I'll  go  with  you 
to  this  town  in  Penns}dvania,  and  obtain  the  neces 
sary  testimony  sworn  to  before  a  justice.  Then  we'll 
find  a  good  lawyer,  and  move  on  the  enemy's  works." 

"  I  will  be  guided  by  your  advice  entirely,  Mr. 
Miller."  ( 

"  It  will  be  a  satisfaction  to  me  to  get  even  with 
your  uncle.  To  swindle  his  own  nephew  in  this  bare 
faced  manner !  We'll  bring  him  up  with  a  short 
turn,  Kit ! " 

The  next  day  Kit  and  his  new  friend  left  Albany. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

KIT    COMES   HOME. 

ONE  morning  James  Sschuyler,  Kit's  old  acquain 
tance  at  Smyrna,  received  a  letter  from  Kit,  in  which 
he  said :  "  Our  circus  season  is  ended,  but  I  am  de 
tained  a  few  days  by  important  business.  I  will  tell 
you  about  it  when  we  meet.  If  you  see  my  uncle  tell 
him  that  I  expect  to  reach  Smyrna  somewhere  about 
the  twenty-fifth  of  October." 


KIT   COMES    HOME. 

*  I  wonder  what  Kit's  important  business  can  be/' 
thought  James.  "  I  hope  it  is  something  of  advant 
age  to  him." 

James  happened  to  meet  Stephen  Watson  an  hour 
later. 

"  Mr.  Watson/'  he  said,  "  I  had  a  letter  from  Kit 
this  morning/' 

"Indeed!" 

"  He  says  that  his  circus  season  is  over." 

"  And  he  is  out  of  employment/'  said  Watson,  his 
lip  curling. 

"  I  suppose  so ;  he  expects  to  reach  Smyrna  some 
where  about  the  twenty-fifth  of  the  month." 

Stephen  Watson  smiled.,  but  said  nothing. 

"  No  doubt  he  will  find  it  very  convenient  to  stay 
at  home  through  the  winter,  he  reflected.  "  Well, 
he  must  think  I  am  a  fool  to  take  back  a  boy  who  has 
defied  my  authority." 

It  was  Saturday,  and  Ealph  was  home  from  board 
ing-school. 

"  Ralph,"  said  his  father,  "  I  bring  you  good 
news." 

"What  is  it,  pa?" 

"  Your  cousin  will  be  home  from  the  circus  towards 
the  last  of  next  week." 

"  Who  told  you  ?     Did  he  write  you  ?  " 

"  He  wrote  to  James  Schuyler,  who  told  me." 

"  I  suppose  he  expects  you  will  give  him  a  home 
through  the  winter." 

"  You  may  rest  easy,  Ralph.  He  won't  have  his 
own  way  with  me,  I  can  assure  you." 

"What  shall  you  do,  pa?" 

"  I  shall  see  Bickford  about  taking  him  back.  I 
have  occasion  to  go  over  there  on  Monday  to  have  the 
horse  shod,  and  I  can  speak  to  him  about  it." 


186  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT, 

Ealph  laughed. 

"  That  will  bring  down  his  pride/'  he  said.  "  I 
suppose  he  will  beg  off." 

"  He  will  find  me  firm  as  a  rock.  What  I  decide 
upon  I  generally  carry  through." 

"  Good  for  you,  pa !  I  was  afraid  you  would 
weaken." 

"  You  don't  know  me,  my  son.  I  have  been  patient 
and  bided  my  time.  Your  cousin  presumed  to  set  up 
his  will  against  mine.  He  has  got  along  thus  far  be 
cause  he  has  made  a  living  by  traveling  with  a  circus. 
Now  the  circus  season  is  at  an  end,  and  he  is  glad 
enough  to  come  back  to  me." 

On  Monday  Stephen  Watson  rode  over  to  Oakford, 
and  made  it  in  his  way  to  call  on  Aaron  Bickford. 

"  Have  you  got  a  boy,  Mr.  Bickford  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  had  one,  but  he  left  me  last  Saturday.  He 
didn't  suit  me." 

This  was  the  blacksmith's  interpretation  of  it.  The 
truth  was  the  boy  became  disgusted  with  the  treat 
ment  he  received  and  the  fare  provided  at  his  em 
ployer's  table,  and  left  him  without  ceremony. 

"  How  would  you  like  to  take  back  my  nephew  ? J> 

"  Has  he  come  back  ?  "  asked  the  blacksmith,  prick 
ing  up  his  ears. 

"  Not  yet ;  but  I  expect  him  back  toward  the  end 
of  next  week." 

"  Has  he  left  the  circus?  " 

"  The  circus  has  left  him.  That  is,  it  has  closed 
for  the  season.  He  has  sent  word  to  a  boy  in  Smyrna 
that  he  will  be  back  in  a  few  days." 

"  He  gave  me  a  great  deal  of  trouble,  Mr.  Watson." 

"  Just  so,  and  I  thought  you  might  like  to  get 
even  with  him,"  said  Stephen  Watson,  loooking  sig 
nificantly  at  the  blacksmith, 


KIT  COMES   HOME.  l8/ 

"  It  would  do  me  good  to  give  him  a  flogging," 
said  Aaron  Bickford. 

"  I  shan't  interfere/'  replied  Watson.  "  The  boy 
has  acted  badly  and  he  deserves  punishment." 

"  Yes,  I'll  take  him  back,"  said  the  blacksmith.  "  I 
guess  he'll  stay  this  time,"  he  added  grimly. 

"  I  think  he  will  have  to.  There  won't  be  any  cir 
cus  to  give  him  employment." 

"  He  is  a  good  strong  boy,  and  he  can  make  a  good 
blacksmith,  if  he  has  a  mind  to." 

"  You  must  make  him  have  a  mind  to,"  said  Ste 
phen  Watson. 

When  the  horse  was  shod  he  got  into  the  carriage 
and  drove  away. 

After  this  interview  Mr.  Bickford  seemed  in  un 
usually  good  spirits,  so  much  so  that  his  wife  in 
quired  :  "  Have  you  had  any  good  luck,  Aaron  ?  " 

"  What  makes  you  ask  ?  "' 

"  Because  you  look  unusually  chipper.  I  was  hopin' 
somebody  had  died  and  left  you  a  fortune." 

"  Well,  not  exactly,  wife ;  but  I've  heard  something 
that  makes  me  feel  good." 

"What's  that?" 

"  Stephen  Watson,  of  Smyrna,  was  over  here  this 
morning." 

"Well?" 

"  He  says  that  boy  Kit  is  coming  home  in  a  few 
days." 

"What  if  he  is?" 

"  He's  goin'  to  bring  him  over  here,  and  apprentice 
him  to  me  again." 

"  I  should  think  once  would  be  enough,  considerin' 
how  he  treated  you." 

"  He  ain't  goin'  to  serve  me  so  again,  you  may  bet 
on  that.  I'm  goin'  to  have  my  way  this  time." 


1 88  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

"  Ain't  you  afraid  he'll  run  away  again  ?  " 

"  Not  much.     The  circus  has  shut  up,  ar*l  he'll 

have  to  stay  with  me,  or  starve.     His  uncle  tells  me  I 

can  punish  him  when  I  think  he  deserves  it." 

"  I  hope  you  won't  be  disappointed,  Mr.  Bickford, 

but  that  boy's  rather  hard  to  handle." 

"  I  know  it,  but  I'm  the  one  that  can  handle  him." 
"  You  thought  so  before,  the  evening  we  went  to  the 

show." 

"  I  know  so  this  time." 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

CONCLUSION. 

SEVERAL  days  passed.  On  Thursday  afternoon  Kit 
arrived  in  Smyrna,  accompanied  by  his  generous  Cal 
ifornia  friend  Henry  Miller.  They  put  up  at  the 
hotel,  and  after  dinner  Kit  walked  over  to  the  house 
occupied  by  his  uncle. 

Mr.  Watson  saw  him  from  the  window,  and  hasten 
ing  to  the  door  opened  it  himself. 

"  Good  afternoon,  Uncle  Stephen,"  said  Kit. 

"  So  you're  back  !  "  said  his  uncle  curtly. 

"  Yes ;    did  you  expect  me  ?  " 

"  James  Schuyler  told  me  you  were  coming." 

"  Yes,  I  wrote  him  that  he  might  inform  you." 

"  That  was  a  good  thought  of  yours.  I  have  made 
arrangements  for  you." 

"  What  arrangements  ?  " 

"  I  shall  take  you  over  to  Oakford  on  Saturday,  and 
place  you  with  Aaron  Bickford  to  learn  the  black 
smith's  trade.  This  time  I'd  advise  you  not  to  run 


CONCLUSION.  189 

Kit  didn't  exhibit  any  dismay  when  his  uncle  in 
formed  him  of  the  plan  he  had  arranged  for  him. 

"  I  will  talk  this  over  with  you,  Uncle  Stephen,"  he 
said.  "With  your  permission  I  will  go  into  the 
house." 

"  You  can  stay  here  till  Saturday.  Then  you  will 
go  with  me  to  Oakford." 

Kit  followed  his  uncle  into  the  house.  "  I  have 
something  important  to  say  to  you,  Uncle  Stephen/' 
he  went  on.  "  Sit  down,  and  I  will  tell  you  what  I 
have  discovered  within  the  last  few  months." 

Stephen  Watson  anxiously  awaited  Kit's  communi 
cation. 

"  Can  he  have  found  out  ?  "  he  asked  himself.  "  But 
no !  it  is  impossible." 

"  I  will  give  you  five  minutes  to  tell  me  your  as 
tonishing  discovery,"  he  said,  with  an  attempt  at  his 
usual  sneer. 

"  I  may  need  a  longer  time,  but  I  will  be  as  quick 
as  I  can.  Among  the  places  where  our  circus  ex 
hibited  was  Glendale,  Pennsylvania.  Eemembering 
that  you  once  lived  there,  I  made  inquiries  about  you 
in  the  village.  I  saw  the  house  where  you  lived  for 
many  years.  Judge  of  my  surprise  when  I  learned 
that  you  were  always  in  extreme  poverty.  Then  I 
recalled  your  story  of  having  lent  my  father  ten  thou 
sand  dollars,  in  payment  of  which  you  took  the  bulk 
of  his  property.  1  mentioned  it,  and  found  that  it 
was  pronounced  preposterous.  I  discovered  that  on 
the  other  hand,  you  were  frequently  the  recipient  of 
money  gifts  from  my  poor  father.  In  return  for 
this  you  have  attempted  to  rob  his  son.  The  note 
which  you  presented  against  the  estate  was  undoubt 
edly  a  forgery.  But  even  had  it  been  genuine,  the 
property  of  which  you  took  possession  must  have 
amounted  to  at  least  twenty  thousand  dollars." 


IQO  THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

Stephen  Watson  had  not  interrupted  Kit  by  a  word. 
He  was  panic  stricken,  and  absolutely  did  not  know 
what  to  say.  He  finally  succeeded  in  answering 
hoarsely:  "This  is  an  outrageous  falsehood,  Chris 
topher  Watson.  It  is  an  ingenious  scheme  to  rob  me 
of  what  rightfully  belongs  to  me.  You  must  be  a  fool 
to  think  I  am  going  to  be  frightened  by  a  boy's  wild 
fiction  Leave  my  house !  I  would  have  allowed  you 
to  stay  till  Saturday,  but  this  is  too  much.  If  you 
come  here  again,  I  will  horsewhip  you ! " 

But  even  when  he  was  making  this  threat  his  face 
was  pallid,  and  his  glance  uneasy. 

At  this  moment  the  bell  rang. 

Kit  himself  answered  the  call,  and  returned  with 
his  friend,  Henry  Miller. 

"  Why,  it  is  Mr.  Miller ! "  said  Stephen  Watson, 
who  had  not  forgotten  that  Miller  was  very  wealthy. 
"  When  did  you  return  from  California  ?  " 

"  Kit,  have  you  told  your  uncle  ? "  asked  Henry 
Miller,  ignoring  this  greeting. 

"  Yes,  and  he  orders  me  to  leave  the  house." 

"  Hark  you,  Stephen  Watson !  "  said  Henry  Miller 
sternly.  "  You  are  in  a  bad  box.  For  over  a  week 
Kit  and  I  have  been  looking  up  matters,  and  we  are 
prepared  to  prove  that  you  have  outrageously  de 
frauded  him  out  of  his  father's  estate.  We  have  en 
listed  a  first  class  lawyer  in  the  case,  and  now  we  come 
to  you  to  know  whether  you  will  surrender  or  fight." 

"  Mr.  Miller,  this  is  very  strange.  Are  you  in  the 
plot  too?" 

"  Don't  talk  of  any  plots,  Stephen  Watson.  Your 
fraud  is  so  transparent  that  I  wonder  you  dare  to 
hope  it  would  succeed.  You  probably  presumed  upon 
Kit's  being  a  boy  of  an  unsuspicious  nature.  But  he 
has  found  a  friend,  who  was  his  father's  friend  be- 


CONCLUSION.  101 

fore  him,  and  who  is  determined  that  he  shall  be 
righted." 

"  I  defy  you ! "  exclaimed  Stephen  Watson  reck 
lessly,  for  he  saw  that  submission  would  be  ruin,  artl 
leave  him  penniless. 

"  Wait  a  minute !  I'll  give  you  another  chance.  Do 
you  know  what  we  are  prepared  to  prove?  Well,  I 
will  tell  you.  We  can  prove  that  you  are  not  only  a 
swindler  but  a  forger,  and  our  success  will  consign 
you  to  a  prison  cell.  You  deserve  it,  no  doubt,  but 
you  shall  have  a  chance/' 

"What  terms  do  you  offer?"  asked  Stephen  Wat 
son,  overwhelmed  by  the  conviction  that  what  Miller 
said  was  true. 

"  Surrender  unconditionally,  restore  to  Kit  his  own 
property,  and " 

"  But  it  will  leave  me  penniless !  "  groaned  Stephen 
Watson. 

"  Just  as  I  supposed.  In  Kit's  behalf,  I  will  prom 
ise  that  you  shall  not  starve.  You  once  kept  a  small 
grocery  store,  and  understand  the  trade.  We  will  set 
you  up  in  that  business  wherever  you  choose,  and  will 
give  you  besides  a  small  income,  say  three  hundred 
dollars  a  year,  so  that  you  may  be  able  to  live 
modestly." 

"But  Ralph,  my  poor  boy,  what  will  become  of 
him?" 

"  I  will  pay  the  expenses  of  his  education,"  said 
Kit,  "  and  when  he  leaves  school,  I  will  make  him  an 
allowance  so  that  he  can  enter  a  store  and  qualify 
himself  to  earn  his  own  living.  He  won't  be  able  to 
live  as  he  has  lived,  but  he  shall  not  suifer." 

"  It  is  more  than  either  of  you  deserve,"  said  Henry 
Miller.  "  I  was  not  in  favor  of  treating  you  so  gen 
erously,  but  Kit,  whom  you  have  defrauded,  insisted 
upon  it.  You  ought  to  thank  him  on  your  knees." 


THE  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 

Stephen  Watson  did  not  speak.  He  looked  the 
picture  of  misery. 

"  Do  you  agree  to  this  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Miller. 

"  I  must !  "  replied  Watson,  sullenly. 

It  made  a  great  sensation  in  Smyrna  when  Kit 
took  his  proper  place  as  the  true  master  of  his  dead 
father's  estate.  Stephen  Watson  left  town  suddenly, 
and  Ealph  followed  him.  No  sorrow  was  felt  for  his 
reverse  of  fortune.,  for  he  had  made  no  friends  in  the 
town.  He  and  Ralph  settled  down  in  a  small  West 
ern  city,  and  started  a  grocery  store.  From  time  to 
time  Kit  receives  abject  letters,  pleading  for  more 
money,  and  sometimes  he  sends  it,  but  always  against 
the  advice  of  Henry  Miller,  who  says  rightly  that  Ste 
phen  Watson  already  fares  better  than  he  deserves. 

Ralph  is  turning  out  badly.  His  pride  received  a 
severe  shock  when  his  cousin  was  raised  above  him, 
and  he  has  formed  bad  habits  which  in  time  will 
wreck  him  physically,  unless  he  turns  over  a  new  leaf. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  Kit  decided  not  to 
learn  the  blacksmith's  trade.  His  old  employer, 
Aaron  Bickford,  has  tried  hard  to  get  into  his  good 
graces  and  secure  his  trade,  but  Kit  employs  another 
man  for  whom  he  has  a  greater  respect. 

Kit  has  made  more  than  one  visit  to  the  worthy 
Mayor  Grant  from  whom  he  received  so  much  kind 
ness  when  a  young  acrobat,  and  a  marked  partiality 
for  Evelyn,  the  mayor's  pretty  daughter,  may  some 
day  lead  to  a  nearer  connection  between  the  families. 

Good,  like  bad  fortune,  seldom  comes  singly,  and 
besides  recovering  his  own  property,  Kit  finds  himself 
the  favorite  and  presumed  heir  of  Henry  Miller,  the 
wealthy  Californian,  who  has  taken  up  his  home  with 
our  hero.  Last  summer  they  took  a  trip  to  California, 
and  Kit  was  charmed  with  the  wonderful  Yosemite( 


CONCLUSION.  193 

Valley  and  the  Geysers.  He  has  decided  to  become  a 
lawyer,  though  he  will  be  in  a  position  to  live  without 
employment  of  any  kind. 

A  few  months  after  his  return,  Kit  read  in  the 
paper  of  the  killing  of  Dick  Hayden,  the  miner,  in  a 
drunken  brawl  at  Coalville. 

He  at  once  took  steps  to  seek  out  the  daughter, 
Janet,  who  had  rendered  him  such  signal  service 
when  he  was  captured  by  the  ruffians,  and  brought  her 
to  Smyrna,  where  he  provided  a  happy  home  for  her 
in  a  family  of  his  acquaintance. 

Nor  has  Kit  forgotten  his  circus  friends.  Last 
year  when  Barlow's  circus  returned  from  its  wander 
ings  he  invited  those  whom  he  knew  best,  the  giant, 
his  two  brother  acrobats,  and  Mile.  Lefroy,  to  pass  a 
week  as  his  guests.  For  the  sake  of  old  times  and  ex 
periences  he  is  always  ready  to  help  poor  profession 
als,  and  has  been  a  friend  in  need  to  many.  He 
knows  that  with  all  their  weaknesses,  they  are  gener 
ous  to  a  fault,  and  ready  to  divide  their  last  dollar 
with  a  needy  comrade.  There  are  some  who  think 
Kit  shows  a  strange  taste  in  keeping  up  acquaintance 
with  his  old  associates,  but  like  his  friend,  Charlie 
Davis,  who  has  also  retired  from  the  circus,  he  will 
always  have  a  kindly  feeling  for  those  with  whom  he 
traveled  when  a  YOUNG  ACROBAT. 


THE  END. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 


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